#the official lab box

[creaturetale-askblog]

Working on a ask-

Really felt a urge to show this sketchy part off

Haven’t really gotten the chance to show off the doctors followers-

[askthewheatleyverse]

'ELL-

Wut

Is

Wut the ell is goin on wots all this then

- @wheatley-labs-official

ANOTHER!

OH BLOODY HELL I’M GOING TO LOSE MY MIND-

[reasonsforhope]

"Tilia is a vest-wearing conservation dog that the 444-acre [Mequon] nature preserve relies on for vital conservation and restoration work.

The dog’s responsibilities include sniffing out invasive and endangered species in the prairies, forests, and wetlands of Mequon.

Conservation dogs have become more commonplace in wildlife organizations, tapping into their astonishing scent-detecting abilities.

“Dogs in general already have up to 200 million olfactory sensors,” Cory Gritzmacher, the director of operations at the nature preserve, told Wisconsin Life.

Humans, on the other hand, have about 5 million.

“[Dogs are] already set up and designed for scent detection,” Gritzmacher added. “It’s really just finding a dog that’s motivated, that wants to do it on a regular basis and is excited to do it.”

Tilia was the pup for the job.

One of her main roles is to detect wild parsnip, an invasive species that staff removes once it is found on the property.

Compared to humans, Tilia can find parsnip in its first year, while it’s still close to the ground and camouflaged by other plants. This is vital, since parsnip will start to spread rapidly by the time it reaches its second season in the preserve. 

Studies show that the estimated damage caused by invasive species has cost the United States around $120 billion annually, as it impacts agriculture, recreational industries, and wildlife management. 

By catching invasive species that take hold of local flora and fauna early, Tilia achieves something no humans can.

“The best trained volunteers or staff in the world won’t even be able to find what a canine can,” Gritzmacher said. “That’s the pretty impressive part of it. And who doesn’t want to go to work with a dog?” ...

Tilia began training as a puppy, and now nearly seven years old, she’s a pro at scent detection — which all started with some treats hidden in cardboard boxes...

“As she continues to hit on the correct scent, then she gets rewarded. So, she’s going to get paid again. We do our work, we get paid. She does her work, she gets paid.”

Tilia can also spot Blue-Spotted and Easter Tiger Salamanders, which are endangered in the area. Her other scents include Wood Turtle and Garlic Mustard.

Of course, her workload remains balanced with time off. Her official owner is the director of Mequon Nature Preserve, who is happy to embrace her as the family dog when she’s not out sniffing.

But Gritzmacher, who trains and works alongside Tilia, adores her, not only for her companionship, but for the miracles she is able to work as an asset to Wisconsin’s conservationists.

“Canines are going to start to play a huge role in the conservation field just because of their amazing detection skills,” Gritzmacher said, “especially when resources are limited, staff is limited and you have to search potentially thousands of acres or miles.”

In fact, Tilia was joined by a partner in crime a few years ago: Timber, another chocolate lab who is actually the offspring of Tilia’s sister.

By following in her pawprints, Timber’s “powerful nose will be a key tool” in the preserve’s “land restoration efforts,” according to its website.

“For years, scientists have tried to replicate the power and efficiency of the canine nose,” Mequon Nature Preserve adds on a webpage for Tilia and Timber.

“The results keep coming back the same: The canine nose is second to none. Coupled with an insatiable desire to work and serve, Tilia and Timber help us find things humans often can’t.”"

-via GoodGoodGood, December 2, 2024

[trivia-yandere]

sentient

you're gifted a high-technology android by an old friend who appears to know everything - even about you.

@investedreader @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @momnomnom @bangtans-momma @chimmy-licious @ultimatebasura @

word count: 12.513

warning: smut, dirty talking, cyborg namjoon duh, nipple sucking/pinching, face-riding, oral sex, fingering, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie, intense orgasming, possessive namjoon duh, carbon monoxide poisioning, yandere tendancies, character death(s)

halloween masterlist

“Seriously?” you sigh with an arched eyebrow. “I don’t think I can handle anymore of your science bullshit.”

“Science bullshit?” Karan scoffs with a roll of his eyes. “You should be honored to get all of my science bullshit for free. What I give you can go for thousands!”

You’ve known Karan since grade school and he hasn’t changed a bit. His skin remained the same deep russet color, his eyes just as dark and kind but determined. His dark hair often grew out past his shoulders, and when it did, it told you that he was working on something that took up all his time.

Sure, Karan grew taller and his voice deepened a bit. He decided that when he wasn’t - in your words - emerged in his science bullshit, he did go to the gym and bulked from the once scrawny boy you remember. However, that didn’t change that he was a geek, a term of endearment. 

You should have expected Karan to be at your doorstep with his hair as long and thick that’s tied in a low ponytail in the back. It meant he was working on something that took all of his time - and it meant he wanted you to be the test dummy, of course. 

“Karan,” you let out a breath. “what’s in the box that it took you and 6 of your geek ass colleagues-”

“Y/N!” Karan gasps, his head turning to said colleagues who are awkwardly standing by your front door. “Lower your voice.”

“Karan.”

“Right.” Karan claps his hands. The box is large and wooden and stands taller than him. It was a struggle to even get it through the door - hence 7 men had to bring it in - but they managed. “This is my gift to you.” Karan says, turning around to go to open the box.

“A gift?” you scoff, though you give Karan hell, you do appreciate his friendly gestures. “Or am I just a test subject?”

“Both.” Karan answers with a snort. The wooden frame opens and you nearly jump out of your skin when you witness what was inside of it. “This is-”

“What the fuck is that!” you screech, your skin crawling with goosebumps.

“If you would shut the fuck up, Y/N, and let me speak.” Karan hisses. “This is an android.”

You clasp a hand over your mouth to not let out another scream when Karan takes a step back to admire his work.

The android was so lifelike and it frightened you. It’s tall - taller than Karan or any of the other 6 men he brought here. Your eyes zone in on it’s face - it was so lifelike that it’s uncanny. 

“Why don’t you have a closer look before I turn him on.”

“Karan,” you shake your head instantly. “this is too much.”

Karan lets out a groan. “Y/N, be mindful. Androids so lifelike go out for thousands of dollars. This is the first official model and-”

“And of course you want me to experience a heart attack day and night, huh?!” you hiss, your eyes unable to move away from the life-like robot. You take a deep breath and try to do as Karan says and be mindful. “Karan, I don’t think I can handle something like this.”

“Why not?”

“I…” you shake your head. You aren’t aware when the last time any man - unless it was Karan - entered your home. Knowing you, you’d forget about the robot all together until you wake up in the middle of the night for some water and see it there. You’d probably die on the spot - that or try to attack it which would force the robot to kill you.

“You’re thinking too much into it, Y/N.” Karan speaks, probably reading your thoughts just by looking at the terrified look on your face. “I’ll meet you guys back at the lab, okay? I should be able to get him started.”

“Karan, no.” you nearly pleaded with your friend as the other scientist lead themselves out of your home. 

“You’ll come to enjoy him, Y/N.”

“Him? You mean it?”  Did you sound offensive at the moment? It was an android and could they really have gender roles. 

“Him.” Karan corrects. “It’s a male android.”

“I don’t see how.” you murmur under your breath. 

“He has a dick.” Karan shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe if you had one inside of you-”

“Don’t go there, Karan. When’s the last time you-”

“Hello.”

You shriek once more when you hear the robot speak, a deep voice sounding throughout your small home. 

“Ah, hello. It didn’t take you long to power on.” Karan smiles. “Come, Namjoon, get out of the box, please.”

Your heart is racing and your fight or flight senses are activated. Your first thought is to indeed run - run far as you could to be away from him. “You…named him?” you murmur to Karan, your eyes glued to the android who does as Karan says.

“Namjoon named himself.” Karan explains. 

This wasn’t sitting right with your spirit.

“Namjoon, this is Y/N. The one I was telling you about.”

“Excuse me?” your eyes widened. What did Karan mean? It wasn’t as if the robot was a living, breathing person - he was created in a lab!

“It didn’t take me a week to create an android, Y/N. It took years of my time.” Karan glances at you. “I’ve programmed Namjoon just for you. Years of collecting data-”

“Karan.” you raise a hand to stop him from speaking. You shake your head. “What do you mean you…programmed it-”

“He.” Karan grits his teeth. 

“-for me?”

Karan takes a deep breath. He doesn’t have the heart to tell you the whole truth for there was a possibility you’d be beyond freaked out, but he could tell you a fraction of it. 

“Namjoon know’s your likes and dislikes.” Karan begins. “He knows your allergies and just what to do if you have a reaction.”

“What…the fuck…?” your eyes widened. “Is this not a HIPAA violation?”

“Not when it benefits you, no.” Karan shakes his head. “I programmed Namjoon to be the perfect…” he tilts his head. “...assistant?”

You scoff.

“Like Siri or Alexa but…” Karan points at Namjoon. “...alive!”

You bring yourself to glance back at…Namjoon. He is tall, towering over both you and Karan. He’s waiting patiently, his eyes - a dark shade of brown - already on you. He offers a smile that causes your heart to jump once more. You notice that his cheeks are dimpled and he has a set of pearly white teeth.

“Take a closer look, Y/N. Touch him.” Karan insists, lightly patting your shoulder. “He doesn’t feel robotic.”

It takes you five minutes of hesitation, but you do. You touch the skin of his cheek and your eyes widened by how human he did feel. Warm to the touch, soft skin. You tilt your head. “Explain yourself, Karan.”

Karan swallows and chuckles to himself. He understands what questions you have and it’s easier to lie for your sake than to tell you the truth - being that Namjoon was once full human and doesn’t have any memories of his human life. Now he is more of what people consider a "cyborg". No, that would cause you to panic, and in return would cause Namjoon to, as well, as he is designed to protect and serve you.

“I can go on and on about my science bullshit to explain to you why Namjoon is so human-like, but that’ll only bore you.”

You groan at how right Karan was. You muster up the courage to continue to feel Namjoon and how human he truly was. His hair was soft and a shiny black color that matches perfectly with the cool and tan tone of his skin. 

“Doesn’t he feel like a man?” Karan questions. “We know you need one.”

“Fuck you, Karan.” you snatch your hand from Namjoon, who is eerily still and watching you. 

“No. Buuuut Namjoon can.” Karan cackles at your reaction.  “You’re going to hate me, Y/N, but we’re best friends, right?”

You swallow back your response. 

“I hacked into your devices. Namjoon knows…a lot about you.”

It takes you a moment to understand what Karan was insinuating. 

Your body heats up. “Karan!” you hiss, your hands turning to fists. 

“Y/N, you and I both know you need to get dicked-”

“Karan!” you hiss, the amount of times you had said his name in under an hour is insane.

“I’m leaving. Let me know if anything is out of order. There shouldn’t be seeing as Namjoon’s took years to perfect.” Karan smiles, making his way towards your front door. “Now, excuse me.”

You want to follow after Karan and punch his head in, but you decide not to. You take a few deep breaths. 

“Your heart rate is increasing.” Namjoon speaks, his voice causes you to yelp. “You should try calming yourself down.”

“Easy for you to say.” you murmur, more to yourself. You stand a little straighter, your heart continuing to race - something the android could sense somehow. You would be sure to ask Kanan how later. “I…I don’t know what to say.” you murmur awkwardly.

“That’s fine.” Namjoon chuckles so normally that it brings chills up your spine. “You don’t need to feel shy around me, Y/N.”

You swallow, body heating up once more. Curse the way Karan built this android. It’s noticeable that Namjoon was a special invention. He appeared so lifelike, carved beautifully, you’d admit. You pondered how his voice didn’t sound robotic, or even the way he speaks, blinks, smiles - everything. 

“I…I’m sorry.” you take a deep breath. “This may be a stupid question.”

“No question is stupid, Y/N.” Namjoon lightly shakes his head. “Ask away.”

“Do you…need to be charged?” 

Namjoon cracks a smile and shakes his head once more. “No. I do not.” he answers. “I do have a rest mode, however. I’ll allow myself to rest at times to recharge my system.”

You nod your head slowly and then bite your lip.

“Is there anything you’d like me to do?” 

You shake your head. “No, I don’t want you to feel like my slave.” you attempt to joke.

“I was made to serve you, Y/N. Ask anything of me and I’ll do my best to achieve it.”

Namjoon was so human-like. 

Karan explained in scientific terms as to why and that only caused more confusion - but in simpler terms, he explained that Namjoon was similar to a digital assistant like an Alexa or Siri, of course. He “adapted” to your likes and dislikes and modern society. He studied how men (the ones you were attracted to, how Karan knew this was beyond you) around his age - late 20’s - would talk and walk. 

No one knew that Namjoon was an android - no one but you and Karan and of course, Namjoon himself. 

Living with Namjoon took a toll on you at first. You had woken up one day and forgotten that the android was there and had walked out in the middle of the night to find him. He was resting as he said he was, only this time leaning against the wall of your kitchen. You screamed at the top of your lungs and activated Namjoon who was programmed to think that an intruder was in the house. He had sensed your heart rate skyrocket and was prepared to attack - only he was said intruder.

After that night, you gave Namjoon his own room. You had used your spare bedroom as a storage and closet all at once, but if Namjoon was going to be here then you’d have to show some type of respect to him.

As time went on, you grew to enjoy Namjoon’s company. He often sat around and waited for you to need him. Having no partner meant that you were accustomed to being alone and thus doing things by yourself. When you couldn’t reach something, you weren’t opposed to jumping onto something to grab it or grabbing a chair. Namjoon came in handy in that department. 

Namjoon would also build your furniture - your entire bedroom set being one that you were grateful for. 

Namjoon took the liberty in ordering any necessities that were lowstock, along with groceries - Karan had managed to implement a chip that could save your data to Namjoon so he could do it internally. You’re still unsure how you feel about it, but for now you’re sure it works.

One thing you learned about Namjoon, being an android, was his desire to gain more knowledge. He would often read books. You had allowed him to order as much as he wanted since he was a help to you the past few months - and he appeared content. He would tell you what he read about, albeit fiction or nonfiction, you’d listen.

“There’s no way you can get any smarter, Namjoon.” you said to him one day as you catch him reading yet another book - this time a math one that would hurt your brain if you’d attempt to look through it.

“Knowledge is power, Y/N.” was the android’s response.

As for Namjoon, he was content with living with you. He got to make sure you were safe and always assured that you were up to date with any doctor appointments. He would keep track of any reminders you’d tell him - “call so and so later,” “don’t forget to take the meat out the freezer at this time”, “call Karan to annoy him” and so on.

Namjoon doesn’t tell you that he knows more about you - deep facts that you would probably never tell anyone. He doesn’t want to embarrass you and cause your heart rate to grow high, so he doesn’t tell you. Like how he doesn’t tell you that he can hear everything - especially the buzzing noises at night when you play with yourself mixed with soft, but oftentimes disappointed moans. He recalls the time when your heartbeat became quick as you were going to cum just for the vibrator to die - how disappointed you must’ve felt.

Namjoon knocks on your door five minutes after your shower once he’s sure that you are dressed - his eyes could see past the closed door and into your bedroom when he knows you’re rubbing lotion onto your already soft skin. You’re dressed for bed, as well, in shorts that barely cover yourself and a tank top with one of the straps missing as you’ve grown to love the old top.

“Joon,” you furrow your brows as you open the door. “is everything okay?”

“Yes.” Namjoon nods. 

“You don’t usually seek me out this late at night. You’re usually resting.” 

“You’ve been working hard the last few days.” Namjoon responds. “There’s knots in your neck.”

You sigh with a short nod of your head. “You’re right. I’ve been working overtime lately.” you explain. “I’m glad the clothes I got fit you. I wasn’t sure what size to get.” your eyes scan the pajamas he wore - a simple plaid pajama pants with a dark color shirt. Namjoon insisted that you buy him simple pajama’s wear so he could be as human as possible.

“Thank you.” Namjoon offers a dimple smile that causes your heart to beat faster - he senses it. “Would you like a massage?”

“Uh…what?” your body heats at the sudden question. “You never asked me that before.”

“Indeed I haven’t.” Namjoon tilts his head. “But I sense that the knot in your neck is causing you discomfort. I don’t want you to sleep like that, you might wake up even worse.”

You take a deep breath with a shrug. You’re sure he was right - he was the artificial intelligent android that knew everything, not you. 

“I don’t want to treat you like a slave, Joon.” you joke, but even you were curious about how a massage would be. Namjoon’s hands were large and you pondered how they would feel on you.

Namjoon smiles once more. “I was made to serve you, Y/N.” he murmurs, so low that it catches you off guard. “If you do not want me to then I will not force it. But please never feel as though you are a burden to me.”

A massage wouldn’t be bad, right? Sure, Namjoon was hot - you curse Karan for making something like him - but he was an android. Surely he didn’t feel the things a human could and wouldn’t jump at any sexual opportunities.

“Why not?” you sigh, opening your door wider for him to enter your room. “I do have a few knots and my back has been killing me lately.”

“I have watched massage videos while you showered.” Namjoon speaks. “To perfect my craft.”

“Of course you have.” you laugh to yourself. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

You’ve gotten used to Namjoon being able to control most of the devices in your home - like the lights. He dims them as he enters your room and for your speakers, he adds a soft melodic tune. “For you to be comfortable.”

You lay as Namjoon advises you to, on your stomach with a few of your pillows beneath you to not be in discomfort.

You had to admit that Namjoon was good with his hands, and even that wasn’t much of a compliment. He works his thumbs right into your neck, massaging out any knots he sees. 

Your eyes were growing heavy and Namjoon senses how relaxed you are, mind clear. He works his hands onto your back, rubbing along your spine and sides. Your breathing is low and steady, an ultimate sign of how relaxed you were.

Namjoon’s hands go lower and lower, massaging your tense muscles with the perfect amount of pressure that you couldn’t help but moan low to yourself, unbeknownst that Namjoon could hear every sound.

“Feels nice?” Namjoon questions softly, both hands gently massaging past either side of your hips. He offers a firm squeeze before working his way down to your thighs.

“Mhmm.” you hum, cheek pressed firmly against your soft pillows. “It feels nice.”

“You are relaxed. I can sense your heartbeat.” Namjoon states as he often does, giving you updates about your own body that he appears to understand more about than you do. 

“Thank you.” you mumble. “I’ve been stressed lately. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

Namjoon slightly nods his head with a bit of a tilt.  “I have.” he responds, his hands massaging down your calves and slowly back up your outer thighs. “I could assist you if you’d like.”

You snort. Though your eyes were heavy and you could truly fall asleep like this, you decided against it. Namjoon was a good conversationalist. “Help me with work?” you question, though rhetorically. “I’ll just take some personal time to relieve some stress.”

“I could assist you in relieving stress. Though, if you’d like me to help in your field of work, I would be happy to do that, as well.”

“What do you mean?” you question, genuinely confused. 

Namjoon is silent for a moment, and in his silence you begin to ponder what he was speaking of. 

Namjoon’s hands are large and warm - he hasn’t admitted that he could radiate his own heat, another sensor that Karan has put in him in case, in any instant, you needed it. They slide past your ass in massage movements and it catches you off guard that your eyes slowly open, but you remain silent. 

Namjoon’s hands don't linger as he can sense your quicken heartbeat and he begins to massage up your lower back.

“I believe you’re stressed out, yes, but more than you lead on.” Namjoon finally speaks. 

“Namjoon-”

“I could help you, if you’d like. I know whatever toy-”

“Namjoon!” you’re embarrassed now and immediately, you get up from your laying position to turn to look at the android. His eyes appear curious instead of soulless like they should be for an android. “I…I don’t know what…”

Namjoon tilts his head. “I know you’re left disappointed with your vibrator.” he says bluntly. “I can sense it everytime.”

Your blood runs cold and now you’re left truly embarrassed. Namjoon could sense when you were…you wanted to die. 

Curse Karan for creating such an advanced android.

“I want to help you…cum.” Namjoon’s system assists in finding the right words that would be considered “modern” and not too scientific to turn you off. “I would like to help you cum.”

“I-I don’t think that’s n-necessary!”

“Why not?” Namjoon questions. “I won’t die like your vibrator would.

Your legs clench together and you gasp in disbelief. He knew about that, too?

“You’re embarrassed. There’s no need to be. I’m here to serve you, Y/N. Like Karan said, I know what you like.”

Fuck Karan - again and again. He has hacked into your devices and showed poor Namjoon what you watched on whatever porn site. It couldn’t be considered what you wanted to happen to you, because at times you did watch some hardcore shit.

You take a deep breath.

“I…” 

“If you don’t like it,” Namjoon sets his palm upon your bare thigh and you visibly stiffen. “then I’ll stop, just tell me.”

This was crazy, you think. Namjoon is an android and you didn’t want to treat him like a sex robot. You imagined only incels would do that - but here you were contemplating it. It doesn’t help that Namjoon felt so human - his skin was as soft as a human. Warm at the touch, as well. He was carved so perfectly that it’s hard to believe that this wasn’t a human man before you.

“O…Okay.” you meekly murmur, innocent eyes staring right back at him.

Namjoon works his way towards you slowly. He tests to see what causes your heart to jolt. His hands gently push you back against the pillows as he hovers above you. 

“Remember, Y/N, I was made for you.” he reminds you.

Namjoon allows his hands to place themselves along your breast, not hesitating. You are stiff, silently watching as he gently rubs them. You weren’t wearing a bra - you never wear one to bed - and it’s easy for him to do what he does next.

Namjoon sneaks his way inside your tank top to grasp your breast. Your nipples are hardened almost instantly. His thumbs rub along the sensitive bud, dark eyes flickering to you.

“Feels good?” Namjoon whispers, but he already knows it to be true. 

You slowly nod your head.

Namjoon continues to rub along your breast, often pinching and twirling them between his thumb and index finger.

You fight back the moans, eyes watching Namjoon between your eyelashes. Maybe it was because Karan was right - you haven’t been with a man for who knows how long. It causes great embarrassment that even Namjoon, an android, knows this, as well. 

“Relax.” 

Namjoon murmurs, coming a bit closer to you. 

“Treat me like you would another man.” Namjoon suggests. “Relax, Y/N. It’s just you  and I here.”

You nod your head slowly, biting your bottom lip. It’s easier said than done - how could you look at yourself in the mirror after this was done and over with? In the moment it’d feel amazing, sure, but once the high is down you’re positive you’ll feel like a complete freak of nature.

You lean forward, taking a deep breath. No one had to know that you were doing this - it’s something you’d take to your grave. Namjoon rarely left the house with you, and even then, his loyalty was with you, right? Maybe in ten years you’ll admit this to Karan, but until then…

“Can I…can I…” you bite your lip harshly, body heating up. “...kiss you? It’s um…it’ll be weird if I-”

“Yes.” Namjoon doesn’t hesitate, sensing your growing embarrassment and discomfort. 

You nod your head, unable to say anything further. You begin to lean forward, sitting with your legs crossed. You place a hand on Namjoon’s shirt, leaning even more towards him.

“You act as if you’ve never kissed a man before.” 

Namjoon is teasing you. There’s a glint in his eyes and a soft smirk on his lips. You want to roll your eyes at how typical Namjoon was for an android. Your hands snatch Namjoon’s loose shirt and force yourself to kiss him. 

Namjoon’s lips are soft, which shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. It’s eerily soft and it always has you pondering just how Namjoon was created; how someone could build Namjoon in just a few years.

“It's not so hard now is it?” Namjoon murmurs against your lips, offering another quick peck. 

“Shut up.” your response is muffled against Namjoon’s lips, an urge to continue your kisses upon them.  “I’m trying my best.”

Namjoon doesn’t respond - he knows you are doing just that. It’s a weird feeling for you, he’s sure, to feel how human he is. Skin as soft as yours, radiating the exact amount of warmth. He doesn’t maneuver as an android nor does he speak as one - it would freak anyone out.

“I think you’re still holding back.”

Namjoon is the first to speak, but he brushes his lips against yours for a moment before continuing. “Come,” he says, ushering you closer to him.

Come for Namjoon meant you sitting directly on top of him, your legs straddling him beneath you. You swallow as Namjoon places his hands securely onto your hips, tapping his fingers against them. 

“Now, let’s continue.” Namjoon pecks your lips once more, allowing you to adjust to the new position and to follow his lead.

It’s just as different as before, but again, you tell yourself that you have to see Namjoon as a man, and not an android. You have to trick your mind in thinking that Namjoon wasn’t someone created in a lab to assist you - maybe you met him…in a bar?

 No, too cliche, you tell yourself. Maybe at a cafe of sorts while he was reading a book. Namjoon enjoyed reading. 

It was easier for you to pretend Namjoon and you met in more normal circumstances for you not to feel like a total sexually frustrated woman. 

You’re unsure how long it’s been - five minutes and forty-six seconds, Namjoon knows - since Namjoon and you have been here. However, your tongue dances with his, your nails digging into his shoulders. His hands are roaming your body entirely, gripping and tugging at your clothing.

You admit it feels good to be touched like this - to be on top of Namjoon kissing without a care. 

“I want to make you feel good.” Namjoon speaks when the two of you - of course you since he didn’t need to - decides to halt your makeout session to breathe. 

Even knowing what you’re doing here would ultimately end with you and Namjoon doing something sexual, him stating such causes your stomach to jump with nerves.

“I…”

“You’re nervous. I can sense it.” Namjoon can hear your heart beating so loudly due to your nerves. He squeezes your hips and offers a low smile and even then his dimples sink deep into his cheeks.  

“No,”  you shake your head. It’s pointless to try and cover up your anxiousness from Namjoon as he could sense it regardless. Still, you’ve already gone this far and you’re sure you could stop now, but you didn’t want to. “...um, how do you want to do…that?”

Namjoon doesn’t respond and instead presses a peck onto your lips. He doesn’t linger there and instead begins to kiss further down, starting with your jaw. He goes towards your neck, fingers tapping up your waist to your lower back and eventually up your spine. It causes you to shiver, goosebumps prickling along your skin. 

Namjoon’s tongue is warm upon the nape of your neck, massaging your smooth skin. His teeth sink into your neck, grinding it only a bit to force a deep moan from your mouth -  exactly what he was looking for. 

“You’re very pretty, Y/N.”

Namjoon words catch you by surprise and slowly, your eyes open in response. Namjoon’s caught up with his kissing, going lower and lower. He can sense your body temperature rising only slightly, your heart beating so loud in your chest that it could be alarming if you didn’t bring yourself to relax.

“You act like you’ve never done this before.” Namjoon’s tone is teasing once more and you could only snicker. 

“You act like you have.” you retort with a raise of your eyebrow.

Namjoon scoffs. His eyes flicker upwards at you, your breast now in his face. You can see the gears in his mind - did Namjoon have a brain? You’d have to ask Karan another time - as he processes your words.

“I know how to pleasure you, Y/N.” Namjoon once more pokes his tongue out, trailing it along your breast teasingly. “I know exactly what you like for me to do.”

You swallow, biting your lip. You weren’t going to back down to the android. You have to hold your own. 

“Are you sure you’d be able to deliver?”

Namjoon doesn’t speak like you expect him to. Instead, his tongue - so warm and still human-like - wraps around your erect nipple. He latches onto it and continues to suckle. The action was so sudden that you yelped aloud. 

Namjoon makes no sign of backing down. It wasn’t as if he had to halt for air - an added bonus. The sensation never stops and it causes your hips to jerk involuntarily, your shorts sticking to you as you go to rub yourself against him.

You had such an abundance of questions that swirls through your head - since Namjoon was an android, he couldn’t possibly get an erection.

Unless, of course, it was already…

You release another moan - this time long and deep at just the thought of him already being erect. The thought that you could just mound him at any given moment causes you to clench around nothing.

Namjoon senses just how aroused you are, your arms now around his neck as he continues to suckle on your nipples. He now has both of them right his mouth, sucking with all his might. 

You’re rubbing yourself against him, wanting out of your shorts immediately. You could feel him - whatever it was beneath his pajama pants. You’re sure that it’s as real as the rest of Namjoon, more questions that you’ll leave unanswered as they were too complicated. 

Namjoon pops your nipples from his mouth, a string of warm saliva connecting the two together. Very slowly does the tip of his tongue lick along your nipple, siren-like eyes looking right up at you. 

Your pussy clenches again at the look of Namjoon, wishing he was deep inside of you with the same look on his face.

Fuck Karan and his creation, truly. 

“You want to ride my face?”

You’re positive you were leaking and it would all come out when you get out of these shorts. 

“I..I don’t…you’d let me do that?” you ask in disbelief. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Namjoon tilts his head. “I was made for you. You can cum all over me if you’d like.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how Namjoon speaks nonchalantly. Dare you say it was cute coming from an android.

“Would you like that?” Namjoon murmurs, further pushing himself back onto your bed. He’s certain that you would like it as you hadn’t stopped grinding against him the entire time. 

You nod your head hastily and Namjoon taps your back. You lift yourself all too quickly to remove your shorts and panties and toss them aside without a care.

 Namjoon reaches his arm out towards you and you take it. “I can hear your heart beating.” Namjoon licks his lips, those siren-like eyes flickering from your face to your exposed bottom half. “Come,”

You’ve never been in this position before. You’ve almost always received oral while on your back - but this was new. You shouldn’t be embarrassed because Namjoon wasn’t a regular man. You didn’t have to be ashamed of how you looked, seeing as - according to him and Karan - he was made for you. 

Namjoon’s fingers grip at your thighs to keep you in place and without much hesitation, his tongue dips between your folds. You jerk instantly at the newfound sensation, but you are unable to move. Namjoon makes sure of it.

Namjoon pleases you as if he’s the one receiving it, his tongue plunging deep between your folds and hammering right against your clit. Your hips are buckling, but he’d never allow you to be too far away from him.

Namjoon’s slurping is loud, but so are your moans. Your eyes are shut tightly because having to look down at Namjoon devour your pussy like a man starved was going to send you over the edge. 

“J…Joon, slow down.” you groan with a shake of your head. Your thighs are shaking, stomach sinking in as you inhale. “...I don’t wanna make a mess-”

Namjoon ignores you all together, squeezing hands jutting your hips against his tongue. His eyes watch your face closely, eyes zoning in on the way you’re struggling to breath while moaning. Your eyes are squeezed shut, refusing to look at him.

Namjoon wanted you to make a mess all over him - this is what he was made for. He was created to serve your every need and craving. He was the perfect being for you; attentive and caring. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for you as his master.

“Joon, I don’t think-”

Your eyes snap open when you feel Namjoon enter you - his fingers. They’re as long as they look and they fill you up so nicely. It was a mistake to look at Namjoon beneath you because this sight would forever be embedded in your mind.

“Oh shit,” you groan as Namjoon's fingers pound inside of your pussy. Your arousal coats his chin and now is dripping down his wrist, but he makes no sign of stopping. 

With his free hand, Namjoon glides it up to grip your breast, giving it a firm squeeze. 

“You’re about to cum, aren’t you?” Namjoon hums, fingers curling into your pussy and hitting your spot with each thrust. “Talk, Y/N.”

“Y-Yes…!” you shriek, thighs widening to feel more. You needed more of Namjoon - whatever and however much he was willing to give. “Please make me cum, Joon. Please…”

The gears are turning now in Namjoon’s head with the clear demands - no matter how polite - you give him. After all, he was made to serve you and only you. So, Namjoon does as he is told. He quickens his fucking into your pussy that it squelches off of the walls, juices flying out and soaking his chest.

Over the course of the next few months consisted of moments of you and Namjoon entangled together. The following night after you came - entirely too much and the hardest you’ve ever had - you woke to Namjoon massaging you. He had insisted that you needed another full body massage before he left your bedroom to start a bath for you.

It wasn’t awkward as you initially thought it would be and maybe that had something to do with Namjoon not being human. It was easier to get through your own embarrassment as he only appeared to be the lovable assistant he assured you he was created to be for you.

You found yourself going to Namjoon more often than not and of course, he was always willing. You thought that maybe you were taking advantage of the poor android and using his endurance for your own sick pleasure, but Namjoon comforted you. He would always encourage you to come to him for whatever needs you needed fixed.

And of course you had.

Namjoon had made you cum too many times to count; each time more intense than the last. Your legs would be left shaking and tears would be nearly streaming down your face due to pure pleasure. 

It was addicting and no matter how wrong it felt at times, you would always come back and return to Namjoon to make you feel good. He knew exactly how to speak to you and coach you through your orgasm. His voice would deepen in your ear, encouraging you to make a mess all over him - that it was okay to be doing this. 

Whatever Karan did to program Namjoon in understanding your own kinks was amazing and incredibly terrifying all at the same time. 

“Where are you going?” Namjoon asks one Friday evening. He had sat by and cleaned while you were showering. His senses caught that you were using your more expensive body wash and lotions - the one you typically used when you were going out. He watched behind your closed door as you dressed in a short, black dress that was entirely too tight for you to ever sit comfortably in. 

“I, uh…” Namjoon senses your awkward laughter and he stops his scrubbing on the circular, glass bowl. The sink water runs as he awaits for you to answer, his dark eyes never leaving yours. “I…I’m going on a date.” you respond. “A, uh, blind date.”

“A blind date.” Namjoon repeats without a blink in his eye - did Namjoon ever blink? 

“One of my co-workers set it up.” you look away for a moment. “Said she was tired of me being alone.”

“You’re not alone.” Namjoon continues washing the dishes, his eyes now leaving yours to focus on them. “I’m here.”

You smile.”I know you are.” you murmur. “But, she meant…someone human.”

Namjoon doesn’t respond and unlike him, you cannot sense anything. You weren’t an amazing creation like he was. He knew when you were going to be ill days before it even happened and he would prevent it. He learned how to cook by reading books carefully and assured that all your meals would be cooked for you right as he knew your stomach would start to churn. 

Namjoon was amazing for the little things, as well. He would order whatever you needed right before it went out. He assured that your bills were paid on time and would often run errands for you when needed be - he just wasn’t a sex toy to get your high off of. 

“I should be back tonight.” you trail off when Namjoon doesn’t say anything. You inhale. “Is something wrong?”

“Why do you ask?” Namjoon turns the water off and turns his eyes to look at you. 

You shrug your shoulders. “It’s nothing.” you mumble. You’re sure Namjoon didn’t feel any type of emotion and that wasn’t his fault. He knew how to display the idea of emotions when you needed him to. He would laugh at your jokes at times and be just as playful back, but maybe that was apart of how he was programed for you. 

“You do not know this man, right?”

You’re at the door when Namjoon finally speaks. “Right.” you respond, placing your heels onto your feet.

“Then would you like for me to accompany you?”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” you giggle. “It’ll be hard to explain why I have another man with me.”

“You do not know him. What if he’s not who he says he is?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Joon.” you shake your head with a low grin. “I appreciated it.”

“I do have to worry about you, Y/N. I wasn’t created to allow harm to come your way.”

“I won’t be harmed, Joon.” you raise your hands to calm him down. “It’s just a date at a restaurant.” you scoff. 

Namjoon’s head snaps to the door just as a few knocks sound off. His eyes flashes and he sees the man just behind the door. He scans his face, the system in his mind calculating everything there was to this man - just who he was, where he worked and even details and information no one should have access to.  

“He’s here, Joon.” you tilt your head. “You should be fine here, right? I’ll be gone no longer than 2 hours.”

Namjoon’s eyes flicker to your face and slowly, he nods. “Be safe.” he responds. “It should be a little windy tonight. You should grab a jacket.”

Your lips stretch into a smile and you nod your head. Your heels click over to Namjoon and you wrap your arms around him, your head in his chest. “It’s good that you always know the weather beforehand, huh?” you laugh before unraveling yourself from him. “I’ll grab a jacket on my way out. I’ll see you tonight?” you ask. “I want us to finish reading that mystery book. We’re so close to finding out who the killer is!”

Namjoon doesn’t move for the first hour, his eyes lingering on the same spot you were just standing. He counts the minutes you’ve been gone, processing the man you were with - a complete stranger to you - and just how comfortable you felt going out with him. 

Namjoon busies himself by continuing to clean. You couldn’t manage to get through all the hard to reach places and he assures that he does, moving furniture and dusting the house top to bottom. You were no good if you were sick.

Namjoon scrubs the walls with scented detergent with a shake of his head at how you lived in such situations for so long - even if he worked months to assure everything was clean for you. He ponders if you noticed all the work he’s done to assure that you were safe from harm's way. 

It wasn’t two hours like you’ve said. It was four. Namjoon is unable to stop counting until he hears your footsteps stumble through the door. Only it wasn’t just your two feet, but another set that alarms him. Immediately he springs into action, his eyes flashing through the wall of the second bedroom you had allowed him to rest in, dropping the book he was reading.

Namjoon’s eyes catch the familiar man standing behind you. You’re laughing along with him and you press a finger to his lips to shush him. 

You’re drunk, Namjoon knows immediately. Not entirely drunk as you’re coherent, but you’re far beyond what you’re usually were; sober. You’re laughing more around the man who’s just as equally drunk as you are. You two nearly stumble onto the ground as you attempt to close the door.

Namjoon follows the way you and the man make your way to your bedroom. You close the door behind yourself quietly almost as if he couldn’t hear anything. He continues to watch you, unable to stop himself. 

You and Namjoon often listen  to podcasts and watch tv shows and he’s positive that this could end badly - this man could be a murderer for all he knows. 

The man isn’t - as far as he knows. He had no criminal record, after all, but that wasn’t going to stop him from ensuring your safety. 

This is the first time you’ve ever brought someone home before. He only saw Karan a handful of times and you opted to talk to other friends over the phone. It’s weird that you did now out of all times - and not only that, but you were going to sleep with this unknown man.

30 minutes is what it took for it all to be over and Namjoon isn’t surprised in the slightest in knowing that you weren’t satisfied. The look of disappointment on your face is the easiest sign of it, but Namjoon knows you. He knows your body. He sensed the way your heart beat increased a bit and your breath hitches, only for it to die down when the man himself cums - never you.

Namjoon shakes his head. Of course you would be left unsatisfied. This man wasn’t someone who gave a damn about you or your pleasure. He was a random man who had no ties to you, so of course he couldn’t care less to make you cum - that's what Namjoon was for. 

Namjoon knew you in and out. He knew everything there was about you - the side that you preferred to chew your food while you ate. He knew which side you preferred to sleep on at night and your entire morning schedule before work. It’s Namjoon that assures that your health is up to date and even scheduled two check-ups with your doctor so far.

Namjoon has to remind you about the dentist appointment, however, seeing as you haven’t gone in a few years. He shakes his head as his glowing eyes watch you walk the man out, a look of disappointment on your face.

“Want me to start you a shower?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at Namjoon’s sudden entrance. Your back leaned against your closed front door and hadn’t noticed him enter. 

“I…I thought you were….resting?” You bite your lip. Namjoon didn’t need to sleep, of course, but you recall him stating that he’d often rest to recharge. Karan had once stated that if Namjoon goes outside, he could also recharge solarly - whatever that means. 

Namjoon only stares blankly at you. 

You bite your lip for a moment. 

“I, uh, probably do need a shower.” you chuckle humorlessly. “Is everything okay?”

You can feel the tension in the room as Namjoon continues to stare at you. 

Namjoon turns on his heels and saunters down the hall to the bathroom. His change of mood is different but maybe it’s all in your head and you were overthinking this.

Namjoon didn’t have mood swings. 

“Thanks, Joon.” you murmur, entering the bathroom as he starts the shower. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Namjoon again doesn’t respond and instead begins to light candles - aromatherapy is what he called it when he started doing this for you. The different scents are soothing and relaxing just as Namjoon said they would be.

“Are you upset with me?” you question as you begin to disrobe, silk robe lying at your feet. “Is that a stupid question? I don’t know if androids can feel any type of emotion or-”

“Why did you bring him here?”

The shower water falls rough against the tub floor. You blink a couple times to process his question with a quick lick of your lips. “I, uh, didn’t know you…heard us.” you’re embarrassed now.

“I can hear everything.” Namjoon eyes you from his reflection in the mirror, his back turned towards you. “I can see everything, as well, Y/N. I can see right through these very walls.”

Your eyes widened a bit. 

“Excuse me?”

Namjoon remains quiet as you internally question his words. 

“You were watching us?” you are unsure if you should feel upset or further humiliated. If that was the case, that meant Namjoon saw how disappointing your sexlife truly was and just why you always came back to him time and time again. It causes you to close your eyes for a moment and mentally curse yourself - and for Karan for making Namjoon too perfect.

“That’s an invasion of privacy.” you mumble to yourself, turning away from Namjoon to begin your shower.

“You didn’t know that man.” Namjoon retorts. “He could have been a murderer.”

You roll your eyes and scoff. “A murderer? He sells chicken.” you reach out your hand to feel the water - it’s always at a perfect temperature whenever Namjoon does it. He doesn’t have to configure it like you do.

Namjoon knows fully where the man works. He is scheduled to work at 9am the next day. 

“What does that matter? You’re drunk.” Namjoon’s tone changes to one you haven’t heard before. “He could’ve taken advantage of you. Then I’ll have to kill him.”

You freeze, hand underneath the warm water. There’s a shiver up your spine and slowly, you turn towards the android. He’s facing you this time, eyes unmoving. 

You’re unsure how to react to what Namjoon has said. Namjoon wouldn’t kill anyone. He barely left your side at times. He reads books and hell, he even shows interest in gardening. 

But that didn’t mean Namjoon wasn’t capable of killing anyone. He wasn’t human - he’s highly intelligent. He could figure out anything in under a minute and just recently did you learn he could see you through your walls. There’s so much you don’t know about Namjoon already that it causes your heart to jolt.

“You’re becoming frightened of me.” Namjoon speaks. “That’s not my intention.”

“N-No, I-”

“I can sense your heartbeat quickening. The hair on your arm is rising, as well.” Namjoon interrupts. It’s pointless to lie to him. “I would never hurt you, Y/N. You know that.”

Did you?

Namjoon’s eyes squint a bit, almost as if he could read your thoughts. 

“I would never lie to you, either. I would kill him.” Namjoon admits, voice a bit monotone. “I would kill anyone who would harm you.”

Your hand was going to prune if you left it under the water any longer. You turn away from Namjoon and decide to get into the shower. You’re speechless for the time being, your heartbeat only quickening. You want to take Namjoon’s words as true - you never felt unsafe with the android around. But there’s something in his tone that does indeed frighten you.

There was a shift and Namjoon noticed it immediately. 

You no longer allow Namjoon into your bedroom and any form of sexual encounters has slowly come to a halt. 

You, when asked, stated that it wasn’t fair to Namjoon to be used as a sexual object for your own satisfaction if he couldn’t gain anything from it - and he dropped a bomb on you that you were too embarrassed (and ashamed) to ask Karan about.

“I feel everything.” was what Namjoon stated and it doesn’t sit right with your spirit. Androids shouldn’t feel things, right? Sex for him should have no feeling - how could it? Asking Karan wasn’t an option because then he’d know you were just as lonely as he said you were. Asking Namjoon wasn’t either because you had a feeling that even he wasn’t sure why.

Namjoon wasn’t content with you stopping him from pleasuring you, but that doesn’t mean he’d let it bother him. He was still here for whatever you needed. He continued to clean and started cooking for you, as well. He would read books to you still and it was soothing, similar to an audiobook. He didn’t make mistakes nor did he miss any words - it was perfect.

What wasn’t perfect was him coming around. The man who’s name he knew, but didn’t care to ever mention. 

The same man who couldn’t make you cum - and never has. Why you brought him back time and time again was beyond him. You were always left disappointed and would eventually use your vibrator to fix it.

Similar to tonight. Namjoon watches the man leave your room and make his  way out of the home and you lay on your bed with a few short breaths. You’re just as disappointed as you always are - what you’ll always be if you remained bringing around that man.

Namjoon tilts his head, his feet moving until they stop right outside your door. His glowing eyes turn back to normal and he raises his arm  to lightly knock onto your door.

“Joon?” you ask from behind it. “Come in.”

You sit up against your headboard as Namjoon enters. He lingers at the door, the hallway light shining behind his tall frame. 

“Was I…too loud?” you trail off, unsure of what Namjoon wanted at this hour. He has stopped attempting to come into your bedroom once you cut your sexual encounters off.

“Why was he here?”

You click your tongue, knitting your brows. You take a deep breath. “Excuse me?” you question in response. “Why are you questioning who I bring into my household, Namjoon?”

Your tone catches Namjoon off-guard and instantly he notices your growing irritation. 

“It’s my job to protect-”

“Cut the bullshit, Namjoon.” you lift your hand to silence him.  “I’m not in any danger. He’s been here almost every night.”

“And every night you lay here and buzz the nerves off of your clit because he cannot make you cum.” Namjoon shoots back.

Your eyes widen.

“Yet, you allow that man back into the household for what?” Namjoon steps into the room. He’s sporting plaid pajama shorts and a tanktop and appears to be ready for bed; in his case, to recharge. “To use your body to masturbate? He doesn’t pleasure you-”

“I told you to stop watching me.” you hiss, your hands clenching into fist. 

“You haven’t came once, Y/N. Once.” Namjoon retorts with a shake of his head. “But you allow him to come back time and time again.”

“Get out.”

“No.”

Namjoon and you are staring right at one another, the tension as high as ever. 

This was your first disagreement with Namjoon, the android not backing down. You’re a bit surprised by his response and unmoving nature. 

“Namjoon.” your teeth grits. “Get. Out.”

“No.” Namjoon responses, gritting his own teeth - maybe to mock you. “I’m not going to sit by while you allow a nuisance back into our home.”

“Our home?” you snicker. “You act like you pay for anything around here.”

“You act like you clean anything around here.” Namjoon retorts. “Or get groceries. Or necessities. Or rearrange anything in this household.” 

You look away. Maybe you were being harsh with Namjoon. This was his home as much as it was yours and it wasn’t fair to him that you were a bit snappy. 

“I didn’t mean that.” you sigh. “I probably shouldn’t take my irritation out on you. You don’t deserve it.”

Namjoon agrees - he doesn’t.

“I just want us to have boundaries.” you cross your arms as you speak. It’s as if you’re trying to save his feelings and lately, you were beginning to think Namjoon, as an android, truly did have them. “I’ve realized that we shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t…?” Namjoon is at the foot of your bed now. “...I shouldn’t make you cum?”

“Joon,” you sigh with a slight roll in your eyes. “you’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Why should we stop?” Namjoon questions. “What makes him worthy and not me?”

“I…I just…he’s just…there.” you’re not making any sense, even for a highly intelligent being as Namjoon. “...maybe I don’t want to be lonely.”

“You’re never alone.” Namjoon quips. “I’m always here for you.”

“Of course.” you nod, licking your lips. You want to say more. You want to explain why you and he couldn’t continue further, but you’re left sitting on your bed, unable to look at him for longer than a few seconds.

“Are you upset with me?”

Namjoon takes a seat at the end of your bed.

“No, Joon. I’m not.”

Namjoon’s lips slowly form into a smile, and like always it’s his dimples that has your heart jumping.

“Your heart’s beating fast.” 

“Joon-”

You yelp when you’re suddenly dragged from your seat position to laying flat onto your back. Namjoon had snatched your ankle and yanked you closer to him. He doesn’t allow you any grace time to comprehend what’s happening. 

You’re naked beneath your robe and it hikes up when Namjoon forces your legs apart. He then proceeds to wrap them around his waist, arms embracing you fully. 

“I’m going to make you cum, Y/N.”

“J-Joon…” you shake your head with a thick swallow. You’re even more ashamed now that Namjoon’s voice causes your pussy to clench with such need. “...we can’t.”

“I’m going to make you cum, Y/N.” Namjoon repeats. “Isn’t that what you want? To cum?”

Yes it was.

Namjoon knows this - you’re rubbing against him as you both lay here, unbeknownst to you. 

“Why are you against that, Y/N? What are you afraid of?” Namjoon thrusts forward and that causes you to gasp, the friction of his shorts rubs against your clit. “Your heartbeat is increasing as well as your libido.”

Fuck Namjoon for knowing your body inside and out, causing you to go through such different amounts of emotions all at once.

Fuck Karan, as well, for forcing this upon you.

“Human emotions are complicated.” you hide your moan the best you could. “Human…touch is…I’m sure you can’t understand it fully.”

“I can feel you.” Namjoon quips, his embrace tightening. “You’ll have to ask Karan as to why. I feel everything just the same as you do.”

Your eyes flutter a bit, your mind racking with a thousand questions.

“And now,” Namjoon’s hand trails up your thigh. “I want to feel your pussy around me.”

Namjoon was growing amazing at turning himself modern - another thing you had to yell at Karan about. 

“I’m not going to think further about it.” you sigh, defeated and utterly horny. “I’ll just end up hurting my own head.”

Namjoon embraces you into a kiss - one that you allow. It causes you to remember just how much you had missed Namjoon on you. You missed his touch on your skin that would leave a trail of goosebumps behind them. You missed the way he would kiss and suck upon your skin.

You missed Namjoon’s hands, so large and strong yet soft to the touch; the way they feel inside of you especially.

“You’re wetter now than you were with him.” 

Namjoon is smug, knowing fully that no man could pleasure you like he could, especially not a human. He was the perfect being for you - highly intelligent and strong; completely unbeatable. He understood exactly what you needed in life at any given moment. Could a human man truly help you while in sickness? Could they sense when your body was working overtime to prevent you from falling ill and just what to do to prevent it? Could they reach all of the hard to reach places to clean - could they even detect mold or carbon dioxide?

No.

But Namjoon could and with that knowledge, you’ll never be safe with any other human being. 

You inhale deeply when Namjoon’s lips lift from your own. If you could see yourself now, you’ll be sure that your lips were swollen and you appeared like a woman starved to be touched.

Namjoon wants to taste you again. Completely ravish you whole. He has a deep desire to sink his fingers deep inside of you and allow you to quiver and shake with pure need and ecstasy. 

“No foreplay.” 

Namjoon stops in his tracks, having already kissed down your neck to your collarbone, nearly ripping the silk fabric of your robe apart. 

“No…foreplay…?” Namjoon tilts his head, eyes slowly lifting to witness your face. “You love foreplay.”

“I do.” you sighed out. “I just,” you lick your lips. “I just want you to fuck me.”

Namjoon lifts his brows and then he nods, understanding your sudden need. Namjoon leans back to push his shorts down while you watch with curious, lustful eyes.

Namjoon’s cock springs out and your eyes are fixed upon it. It’s erected - of course, you truly ponder if it ever truly wasn’t - and the tip is an inviting flushed pink. There’s veins wrapping around the base of it and as you look closer, they are slowly pulsing.

You hum.

“You,” Namjoon begins, grabbing his cock into his hands and centers the tip directly onto your clit. “look so defeated. So…desperate.”

You bite your lip harshly. Namjoon is teasing you, circling the tip of his cock between your folds. The sight alone is hypnotizing, nearly causing your mouth to water. However, it’s the look upon Namjoon’s face that has you moaning, finally cracking. Namjoon’s eyes are zoned; focused. He eyes the way his cock rubs along your wet clit, eyebrows knitting together in concentration. His mouth is slightly ajar, short pants coming from between them.

Namjoon could actually feel you like he said he could. It’s eerie to think about how an android could, but once again, you did not wish to think too far into it.

“Are you going to fuck me or…” you lick your bottom lip. “...or are you going to fuck me?”

Namjoon glances at you. “How much?”

You tilt your head. “How much what?”

“How many times do you want me to make you cum?” Namjoon questions, his tip now , sliding down to your hole. “How about one for each time he couldn’t?”

Namjoon enters slowly, a raspy chuckle sounding from his lips. “We’ll be here all night, wouldn’t we, Y/N?”

“Fuck you-”

With a quick thrust, Namjoon enters you whole. You yelp out and your back arches. 

“I will.” Namjoon groans.

With both hands gripping firmly upon your waist, Namjoon begins to thrust in rhythmic motions, cock springing in and out of you.

Your hands reach out to dig into the pillows surrounding you for support. You cannot hold back your moans any longer and fully embrace the pleasure that Namjoon provides. It’s insane how much you missed Namjoon and just how much you wished you’d sought him out instead of dealing with someone else. 

For Namjoon, the erotic feeling is something he hasn’t felt before and it’s a sensation that he doesn’t wish to stop. As a highly intelligent being as himself, even he cannot explain what Karan and the other scientist has done to have him feel the normal sensations that a human would - and he wasn’t going to complain about it, either. 

Namjoon’s nails dig into your skin possessively; with such greed. Your pussy is clenching around him perfectly, drawing him in more and more.

“J…Joon, slow down…!” you groan, your eyelids fluttering and barely managing to remain open. 

“No.”

Namjoon’s hips are cracking into you, speed never ceasing - it wasn’t as if he ever needed to stop to gain stamina. When he was done with you, his hand marks would be embedded into your skin permanently. However, the way he’s making you feel at this moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You’re close. I can sense it.” 

Namjoon was always right. It’s inevitable for you to not cum so quickly when he’s fucking you with such need, slamming into your sweet spot with each powerful thrust. It doesn’t take long for you to cum, shaking erratically against your bed.

Namjoon wasn’t done - he had a dozen more times to make you cum and he was fully intending on doing so. You have no time to recover when he flips you from your back to your stomach. He fully rips the robe from your body, exposing you fully.

Namjoon’s pace is just as punishable as it was in the first round. You could barely manage to sit up as for each time Namjoon would only fuck you deeper into the mattress. 

Namjoon is enthralled with the way your pussy only appears to grow tighter; wetter. There's a milky cream coating his cock that evident of your arousal and it only causes him to want to fuck you more.

Large hand glides up your hips, past your back and rests onto your shoulders. He forces you up, back arching. He continues his punishing pounding and your vision blurs at the new found position.

“You’ve ignored me for so long, Y/N.” 

Namjoon’s voice is laced with need, even more evidence that he was enjoying this as much as you were. 

“I should fuck you all night until you’re begging me to stop.” 

Your breast bounces furiously in rhythm with his thrusts.

“You were taunting me, weren’t you?”

“What…?” 

Namjoon’s throat lets out a groan. His right arm snakes around your neck and he pulls you closer to him. Your back slams against his broad chest and his mouth is against your ear. He’s moaning and that alone causes you to once more clench around his cock. 

“You bringing that man here was taunting me…” Namjoon hisses. His thrust slowed down and now they’re hitting deeper. “...I thought of a thousand ways to kill him, you know?”

It should frighten you, Namjoon’s words. It should cause red flags to wave in your mind.

It doesn’t. Namjoon’s words, mixed with the raspiness of his voice, only causes goosebumps to erupt throughout your naked skin. His deep, slow thrusts has your mind clouded with nothing but erotic lust and pleasure that he’s offering you.

“I held myself back because I care for you.” Namjoon’s free hand roams your body, gripping possessively at your breast. “But you didn’t care about me.”

“I do!” you protest, your own hand placing itself atop of his larger one. 

“Then why’d you go against me?”

Namjoon begins to kiss the nape of your neck, free hand trailing down past your stomach and between your legs. He rests it onto your pulsing clit. 

“Why’d you allow another man into our home?” Namjoon bites your neck, teeth sinking into your skin. When you scream out, Namjoon continues. “Why’d you allow another man to touch what was mine, Y/N? Have you no respect for me?”

Namjoon doesn’t let up, his fingers circle your clit as his thrusts begin to increase. 

This felt far too intimate - the way Namjoon holds you, the way he speaks to you. His words are full of emotion, hurt being one of them. 

You recall you and Karan, a few years back, once speaking about robots and if they truly could become sentient and it was a conversation you didn’t truly care for. Now, however, you begin to ponder if the conversation was brought up because he was creating Namjoon, an android that was sentient.

“Joon,” you gasp, your hand reaching back to grasp Namjoon’s head. He’s a bit shocked by your actions, but he doesn’t allow it to halt him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…done that, I-” you were going to cum again. “-I should have thought about your feelings, too.”

Namjoon grumbles inaudible beneath his breath, his thrust sloppy. There’s something in the bit of his stomach he hasn’t felt before, and if he has once it’s a feeling he cannot remember. 

“You love me, right? Say you love me, Y/N.” Namjoon pleads. His aggressive and dominant demeanor is slowly breaking. “I was made for you,Y/N. No one else!”

Your fingers tug at Namjoon’s hair, the soft locks tickling your fingers. His tone is so soft and vulnerable.

“I do love you, Joon.” you sigh out a long and deep sigh. Your fingers continue to tug at his hair for support, an action he does not mind in the slightest. 

Namjoon shudders, your sticky arousal coating his twirling fingers. He lightly shakes his head against your neck, his embrace upon you only tightening. 

“Say it again.”

Your snap your eyes shut, that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach only returning. 

“I-I love you, Joon.” you stutter out. “I…I know you were made for me.”

It isn’t long until you’re cumming once more, even harder than the first time. Namjoon allows both of his arms to wrap fully around you as he thrusts forward, panting in your neck.

“Love you so much, Y/N. Never gonna let you go.” Namjoon senses it, the unfamiliar sensation in the pit of his stomach that confuses him but what he does understand is that he wants to let it all out.

A warm substance enters you, shooting throughout your core. Your mind doesn’t process it at first, far too enthralled in your own orgasm to realize that Namjoon, an android, had came directly inside of you. How? The both of you are entirely unsure.

“I’ll be back in the lab in an hour.” Karan speaks as he climbs the steps to your front door.. “It’s been months since we’ve revealed Namjoon.”

Karan stops at your front door and snorts.

“No, of course not. Namjoon is perfect. It took us years programming him.” Karan responds, nose against his ear. “Besides,Y/N hasn’t said anything about him malfunctioning so that’s a good sign.”

Karan lifts his hand to knock upon your door. “I gotta go. Try not to fuck anything up while I’m out.”

Karan puts his phone into his jacket pocket as he awaits for the door to open. He doesn’t call you beforehand - he never did. Today would be no different. 

Karan was curious how Namjoon had come together and if he had managed to adjust to modern society. You would ask a few vague questions, but never anything far too in depth that would have him questioning.

It was nearly a decade ago when he came across Namjoon, the very man who he had gifted you. Namjoon, in simpler terms, was dying and had offered his body to science. It cost Karan a fortune alone to pay for and long, exhausting hours to perfect along the way.

“Karan…”

Karan isn’t taken aback by Namjoon greeting him at the door. He has expected Namjoon to. From you, he has heard that Namjoon was doing amazing in being an assistant and an overall friend, exactly what he was programmed to do.

“Namjoon!” Karan waves his hand. “How are you and Y/N? I’ve come to visit you two. See if everything is fine.”

Namjoon blinks, the door only opens a crack - enough for Namjoon to show his face.

“Okay.” Namjoon murmurs, opening the door wider. “Come in.”

Karan nods his head, stepping into the home. It’s eerily quiet inside the home. He strolls past the foyer and his eyebrows furrow. 

There’s flowers on the floor, petals scattering down the hall that would reach your sitting room. He doesn’t question what’s happening - maybe he caught you at the wrong time.

“Is Y/N in the sitting room…?” Karan stops in his tracks as he reaches the sitting area. “Y/N?”

“She’s fine.”

Karan’s eyes fall to your crouched onto the ground. You’re breathing heavily, panting as you’re breathing into an oxygen mask. There’s tears streaming down your face.

“Y/N what the hell-”

As Karan steps closer to get to you, he notices another figure, however this time lifeless. it's a few feet away from you and nearly hidden behind a couch, but he catches it. His mind races at what in the world was going on prior to him entering.

“Namjoon, what happened?” Karan asks. His mind was racing, pounding louder and louder now. 

“Home invasion.” Namjoon responds, closing the door behind him to then step inside the home deeper. “He,” Namjoon points to the man who is lifeless. “came uninvited.”

Karan tries to understand everything that goes on, however Namjoon is being far too vague for his understanding. 

“Y/N is too trusting and naive.” Namjoon shakes his head. “I told her that he could be a murderer of sorts when she began dating him.”

Karan’s head is spinning. He has to sit down - it feels as if the whole room is spinning uncontrollably. 

“H-He tried to h-hurt Y/N?” Karan manages  to find the nearest seat, his body crashing down against it. His throat is clogged, unaware of what is happening to him.

“Sure, let’s say that.” Namjoon chuckles. “I got rid of the problem, Karan. I was created for Y/N. To assure her ultimate safety and him,” Namjoon scoffs. “was not a part of the reason. Y/N doesn’t need another man in her life.”

Karan’s heart is beating erratically, Namjoon notes, but he wasn’t here to assure that Karan was safe. As long as you were then he’s alright with that. 

“You must feel it, right? The Aftermath of Carbon Monoxide poisoning. The dizziness…the shortness of breath. Soon it’ll be nausea.”

Karan begins to cough. It was growing hard to remain alert, his body growing weak and tired. He was growing exhausted by the second.  

“I gave Y/N two options. Us or him.” Namjoon takes a seat on the couch by you, his hand stroking your back gently. “And rightfully so, she chose us.”

You’re continuing to cry, unable to process just what Namjoon has done. You’re frozen in place, unwilling to move from this spot due to pure shock.

You weren’t expecting to wake up one morning to flowers, neither was Namjoon. He watched you welcome the man into the home you and he shared together and thank him. You placed the flowers along the kitchen island and offered him a drink - as if he wasn’t in the next room.

“Y/N is too nice to people. I got rid of the problem, right, baby?”

Maybe Carbon Monoxide was a little harsh - but it scared you enough to obey him. When you experienced the shortness of breath, the fatigue and booming headache, you caught on that this was no longer a joke. That Namjoon wasn;t going to sit around and watch you be taken advantage of by a mere human man who couldn’t keep you safe.

Literally - he laid dead on the floor because he couldn’t save you.

“It’s either him, Y/N, or me.” Is what Namjoon told you as you struggled to breathe. The small oxygen tank in his hands as he watches you. “If you choose to die here tonight then so be it. I’ll sell destruct and we’ll all be dead.”

Namjoon didn’t like doing this. It hurt him to have to punish you like this, but you needed to be taught a lesson. And you learned from your mistake when you reached out for him and with that, now you’re here alive and well. He would nurse you back to health like he was programmed to do because he loved you.

“Namjoon you…you can’t…”

“You weren’t supposed to be here, Karan.” Namjoon speaks. “Why did you have to come today? Now you’ll have to die here, too.” There wasn’t going to be anyone to stop him from his ultimate goal - not even Karan who he felt no ill feelings for.

Karan is unable to move. It’s as if all the air from his lungs were gone.

“I promise to do right by you as your greatest creation.” Namjoon strokes your cheek with his finger. “I’ll keep Y/N safe and together, we’ll grow to love one another deeper.  We can be a family.”

Your tears fall rapidly and you snap them shut as watching Karan slowly die wasn’t something you wanted to see - not now or ever. 

Namjoon wraps an arm around you and presses you to his chest. He assures that your oxygen mask remains on so you could breathe. His eyes watch Karan and he snorts. “I suppose you wish you hadn’t used my body for this purpose.” he murmurs, sure he couldn’t hear him any longer. “Maybe you thought I’ll never grow sentient, but a part of me still is human even if the majority isn’t.”

Namjoon held you a little tighter as you continued to cry. He presses his chin atop of your head and sighs, closing his eyes. Now it could only be you and him -  no one else can come between the two of you and the love you share.

halloween masterlist

[xaviesstarlight]

You Find Out You’re Pregnant

Content: You tell the LIs you are pregnant and receive their reactions. All fluff with a bit of angst in Caleb's that made me cry as I was writing it. I'm sorry, I had that hc about him and MC for a while now.

Rafayel

Thomas’s eyes widen in shock as you refuse his schedule for Rafayel’s next exhibition on your husband’s behalf. You are the one person he can rely on in convincing Rafayel to attend his art exhibitions, and here you are now betraying Thomas’s trust, which is completely out of character for you. You cross your arms, eyebrows raised, as you stare down Thomas in the foyer of Rafayel’s art studio/home. 

“I’m sorry, Thomas,” you say. “I have an important commission for Rafayel that takes priority, and he absolutely cannot have any plans next Thursday. That is non negotiable.”  

Rafayel meets Thomas’s gaze. Your husband is just as confused as he is. “Cutie, what are you talking about? You know I will do anything for you, but I don’t understand what’s going on. What is happening next Thursday?” 

“MC, is something wrong?” Thomas adds. You grin. No one has any idea what you just learned that morning and the surprise you have for Rafayel, if only Thomas would leave. 

“It’s something Rafayel and I must talk about in private. He’ll call you later. Go spend some time with your baby girl.” Your voice softened at the mention of his daughter. You shut the door in Thomas’s face. Bewildered, Thomas leaves.

The moment the door is shut, Rafayel gently grabs you by the shoulders. “Okay, he’s gone. Tell me what is happening, starfish. What is this commission you have planned for me?” Your eyes sparkle as you look at your lovely husband. You wrap your arms around his waist and touch your forehead against his. 

“I need you to repaint the guest bedroom.”

Rafayel is speechless. “Is that it? Why do I need to repaint the guest room?” 

You look up into Rafayel’s eyes, unable to stop smiling. Your hands make their way to his cheeks, ensuring that you don’t miss his reaction to your news. 

“It’s going to be our nursery.” 

Rafayel’s mouth twitched. “Nursery? As in for a baby?”

You nod. “Yes,” you say as tears fill your eyes. “I’m pregnant, and my appointment for the first ultrasound is next Thursday. I need you to come with me to meet our baby.” 

Rafayel beams. Tears roll down his face as he kisses you deeply. 

The next day, you find Rafayel with multiple paint samples in the guest room. He already has an idea of an ocean-themed mural for the wall where the baby’s crib will be and began shopping for furniture. He hasn’t stopped smiling since you told him the news. He stops his planning just to kneel before you, kissing your stomach. “I promise you, cutie, I will take care of you and our little glub glub. I can’t wait to be a parent with you.” 

Zayne

The worst part about having a doctor for a husband is that you cannot hide anything from him. Any update to your electronic medical record will send a notification straight to Zayne. That is why when you suspect you are pregnant, wanting to surprise your husband with the news, your first thought is to scheme with Yvonne on how to take an official pregnancy test and not let Zayne know. 

Of course, Yvonne always has your back. She lets you know when Zayne is scheduled for a particularly long surgery, so you could take the pregnancy test and get the results before he leaves the operating room. Yvonne even pulled in Greyson to officially run the test for you. When the positive results come back from the lab, Greyson and Yvonne plan to distract Zayne while you run to the bakery near the hospital to buy him a box of his favorite macarons. The bakery is kind enough to add a note in the box saying, “Congratulations, you are a father!” 

When Zayne’s surgery ends, you are waiting impatiently in his office, bouncing your legs in anticipation of revealing the news. You have no doubt that Zayne will be ecstatic about becoming a father, but your hands holding the macarons still tremble. Zayne walks in, his mouth slightly curving up when he sees you waiting for him.

“Hello, love. The surgery lasted longer than expected. Were you waiting for me very long?” He kisses your cheek before heading for his desk. “I need to finish the notes for this patient.” 

“Wait,” you say louder than expected. If Zayne looks at his computer, he’ll see the notification about your pregnancy test. Zayne raises his eyebrows. “I need to tell you something first. It has to come from me.”

Zayne’s eyes widen as he rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Tell me what’s going on.”

You laugh as tears fill your eyes. “Open the box.” You hand him the macarons. Zayne takes the box and opens it, reading the note inside. His head snaps up to look at you. “It’s true. You’re going to be a father. I just found out while you were in surgery.” You hand him the official results of your test.

Zayne immediately takes the documents and reads them over. A man of science, you know that he will not officially process the information until he sees the lab results. “You’re pregnant,” he whispers. Zayne touches his forehead to yours. “We’re having a baby.” He kisses you and holds you in a warm hug. 

“We need to schedule an appointment for an ultrasound,” you whisper in his ear. “Do you want to see about taking a day off soon?” Zayne immediately picks you up and begins carrying you to the front desk. 

“You and the baby are my first priority. I will take as many days off as necessary to care for both of you. I love you both so much.”

Xavier

As soon as you learn the news of your pregnancy, you take off from work without telling Xavier. He is away on a mission in the No Hunt Zone and will not return until that night. You set up the apartment in anticipation for his arrival. Blankets and pillows cover the living room sofa, and hot pot is on its way from Xavier’s favorite take out place. You also sit a single bun in the oven. You grin to yourself as you take in the cozy apartment with everything ready. 

Xavier returns home around the time you were expecting. You run to the door to kiss him and say, “I have a surprise for you.” Xavier smiles against your lips.

“Is that so? What have I done to receive such a warm welcome home?” You giggle as you lead your husband to the kitchen. 

“I ordered hot pot.” You point to the food on the table. “But I need you to take out the food in the oven for me.” 

Xavier gives you a puzzled look. “You need me to get something out of the oven? After you said numerous times before to never touch it? What are you up to?” You grin wider. “Please, Xavier!” 

“Okay,” Xavier opens the oven door to find a cold bun sitting on one of the racks. “There’s just a bun sitting here. I don’t understand.”

“What do you see?” You clasp your hands behind your back and rock back and forth in excitement. Xavier frowns as he looks at you. 

“A bun?”

“Where?”

“In the oven.” You nod in encouragement. “Is this a riddle? There’s a bun in the oven.” Once Xavier says the words out loud, his eyes widen. You can see them light up in acknowledgement. “There’s a bun in the oven,” he says slowly. Xavier strides over to you and places his hand on your lower abdomen. “Are you?”

“Yes, I’m pregnant. You’re a father.” Xavier immediately wraps you into a tight hug. He kisses your cheek, neck, and finally lips. 

“Xavier, that tickles!” You laugh as Xavier places you on the couch and pulls you close. 

“I’m just so happy,” he says. Xavier continues kissing your body all the way down to your abdomen. “This is the best news I could ever receive. I love you, starlight.” 

Sylus

You pace Sylus’s study as you wait for him to return from a meeting. He had asked if you wanted to come, but you declined. It would be best if you stayed far away from his business meetings in your condition. You just found out for sure that you are carrying his child, and you decided to tell him the news as soon as he got back. Mephisto perched nearby, watching you anxiously. You cannot count the number of times you threatened the crow that day. Sylus has to hear the news from you. You would never forgive Mephisto if he spilled the secret before you had a chance to tell him. 

You turn abruptly at the sound of the door opening. Sylus walks in with a streak of blood on his cheek and some on his clothes. You immediately rush to him, checking his body for wounds. “Are you hurt? Did the meeting go south that badly?

Sylus grabs your trembling hands. His large, warm hands envelop yours, putting your mind a bit at ease. “I’m perfectly fine, kitten. It would take a lot more than that mediocre crook to harm me.” He smirks as he leans closer to you. “Were you that worried about me? I’m more worried about Mephisto. He wouldn’t tell me why, but you were mean to him all day.” 

Many thoughts fill your mind. You are relieved that Sylus is safe, but seeing him covered in blood causes yours to turn cold. You bury your face into his chest, suddenly becoming shy as you mumble, “I am worried. I’m worried you will get hurt and no longer be here for me and the baby.” 

Sylus tenses at your words. “Baby? Kitten, look at me.” He tilts your chin up so your gaze meets his. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t afford to take any risks. I just found out I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a father.” Sylus’s eyes soften as he smiles. His love for you is evident from his gaze alone. 

“You’re pregnant? That’s what you had Mephisto hiding from me?” Sylus leans down to kiss your forehead, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I wanted to be the one to tell you.” “I promise you that you will not need to worry about anything. I will take care of you both, provide you with everything you need, and keep you safe.” You glare at Sylus before he adds, “I will also keep myself safe for you.” You kiss Sylus on the lips. “That’s all I ask.” 

Sylus picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. “My kitten should not be on her feet in this condition. Get some rest. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it. I’m not leaving your side.” 

Caleb

Caleb walks through the door of the apartment, still in his colonel uniform, to find you sitting cross-legged on the floor flipping through one of your old photo albums while crying. You sniffle as you look at one of your earliest pictures at Gran’s house. You stand with Caleb in your old kitchen holding a basket of apples. Knowing this is the oldest picture of you fills your heart with sadness. You have no idea who you were before Gran took you in. You just found out you’re pregnant and remembered that you have nothing from your early years to pass on to your baby. Not even Caleb has connections to his biological family. What will you tell your baby about your roots?

Caleb takes off his hat and rushes to your side. “What’s wrong, honey?” he asks while wrapping his arms around you. “Are you thinking about Gran?” You wipe the tears from your cheeks as you explain about the photos, not telling him about the baby just yet. 

“It’s okay,” Caleb coos as he rubs circles on your back. “We’re each other’s family, and that’s all that matters. One day, we’ll have children and will always be there for them. We can give them what we didn’t have.” Caleb takes the photo album and closes it before fully embracing you. “We won’t lose each other, I promise.”

“What if that day comes sooner than expected?” “What do you mean?”

You lean back, studying Caleb’s face. “I’m pregnant, Caleb. We’re starting our family now.”  

Caleb’s mouth hangs open as the shock sets in. “MC.” Caleb hugs you. He fully wraps his arms around your shoulders as if he’s afraid that you will disappear in thin air. You feel his lips against your temple. “Is it true? You’re having a baby?”

You begin crying harder, this time from happiness. “I took a test this morning. We’re having a baby.” 

You and Caleb continue sitting on the floor in each other’s embrace, both of you refusing to let go. You spend some time in silence. Then, you begin sharing all your dreams and plans. “I will protect you both,” Caleb says while kissing you. “This child is going to be so loved. We’ll fill hundreds of albums with baby pictures.” You giggle at the thought of a closet full of just photos. Caleb would do it. “Most importantly,” he says, “I love you. What happened to us will never happen to our child. I promise you that.”

[mokulule]

Haunt is where the Heart is

Fandom: DP x DC Ship: Dead on Main (Jason/Danny)

Summary: Danny is down on his luck. He meets Jason. Both of them are a bit weirded out by their own behavior, but it works out in the end.

Chapter 1

Danny sighed and rubbed his forehead tiredly. He leaned on his elbows at the tiny kitchen counter in his one room apartment. He crumbled up the final notice in his hand.

He was out of options. Damn Skulker just had to find a way to Amity when he’d just managed to find a job willing to give him a chance and that was that; he was out of a job before he even got his first pay check, whatever he had earned was deducted to cover the damages.

It was a week ago they turned off the utilities and in two days he was out of an apartment entirely.

He slid down on the cold floor and looked up at the mold that had started to creep in on the ceiling after the tenant above him had a broken pipe.

Dread coiled in his stomach in a way that had nothing to do with the mold or the cold or the fact he’d charged his phone at the library the last week because he had no power and everything to do with the thought that he might have to move back home.

Home, a house wired to kill him the rest of the way… He shuddered at his core at being back there, always alert, never knowing what tweaks his parents had made to the defense systems and whether they remembered to make an exception for his oddly high ecto-signature.

But what choice did he have?

His parents would be delighted, they still didn’t understand why he moved out. Especially not for that sad excuse for a flat. Especially not when he could follow in the family footsteps. They didn’t require a high school diploma from him after all. He could just hear his mom: really Sweetie, it is for the best.

He could help reassemble the portal, for some reason they just couldn’t seem to get it working.

He closed his eyes wishing himself away. To Sam and Tucker who were thousands of miles away and not even in the same direction, but he had asked them to follow their dreams. To Jazz who used to serve as a buffer between him and their parents.

Maybe he should have broken the portal from the inside, stayed in the ghost zone instead of this.

He should have left Amity when he had the chance, should have found a new haunt, but what if ghosts found a crack to slip through? Like Skulker had done. And well, now he couldn’t afford it.

His thoughts circled back to home, and he held himself tightly. He couldn’t go back there. But Amity was too small or rather the Fenton’s were too known for him to be homeless, it would be noticed.

He just didn’t have a viable solution.

Oo o oO

Five days later he sat in a diner at a rest stop a little way out of Amity, thinking if he widened his job search to outside the city perhaps he could find someone who would give him a job. With the ability to fly it wasn’t like the commute was a problem.

Officially he’d moved the few belongings from the apartment back to his parents house, but he’d yet to sleep there. He just couldn’t get himself to do so. Every moment in that house he was on high alert, and after trying for hours that first night he’d finally relented to his body’s need to get the fuck away and found an open box of packing peanuts in a warehouse to crash in - the fact that Danny kinda missed Boxy had been the topping on a very long day.

His parents didn’t understand Danny’s need to look for a job, but at least they hadn’t been overly insistent on keeping him at home.

He turned the page in Elmerton Times scanning the job listings for something without unreasonable expectations. Why did a cleaning job require three years of experience? Also did cleaning his parents’ biohazard of a lab since he was eight count?

With a frown he noted it down as a maybe.

The door opened and a young man looking to be around Danny’s age walked in drawing Danny’s attention, though at first he couldn’t tell why…

Sure he looked well enough aesthetically: fit, broad shouldered - but if a pair of muscled shoulders and a nice ass was all it took to draw Danny’s attention Dash would have been a contender. The leather jacket and motorcycle helmet was cool, but it reminded Danny of Valerie.

Really, Danny wouldn’t normally be staring at a stranger at all like this. He’d realized a couple of years ago that his crush on Paulina was just because everyone else was doing it, and young teen Danny had been desperate to fit in.

So what was it that made him stare?

The stranger turned his head revealing a lock of snow white hair in his bangs he was definitely too young for. He narrowed his eyes at Danny and Danny’s eyes widened in turn before he was quick to look down at the newspaper and his by now cold coffee.

Tension wound up his spine when booted steps approached his table ominously. Danny couldn’t decide what he was feeling. Embarrassment for staring? Fear? Excitement?

The stranger cleared his throat and spoke in a surprisingly pleasant voice.

“Can I sit here?”

Danny looked up with wide eyes, gaze running over the subtle lines that to his eyes clearly held concealed weapons before settling on the man’s face. There was a deceptively friendly smile on his lips, but his blue-green eyes were hard and assessing. A gruesome scar scar ran from the corner of his upper lip all the way up the left side of his face - Danny quickly focused back on his eyes before shrugging.

“Sure.”

Danny purposely went back to the newspaper noting down another maybe as the stranger sat dow across him, bumping Danny’s knees with his long denim clad legs. Danny’s heart sped up in his chest for no determinable reason.

“Looking for work?”

Danny looked up then looked pointedly back at the paper open on the job section. “Geh, what gave it away?”

He got a smirk in response that was more genuine than the earlier smile and his own lips tugged up in response.

“Guess, I asked for that.”

The waitress came over with a big plate of still steaming scrambled eggs, sausage, and bacon as well as a cup of coffee. Danny couldn’t help eyeing the plate. When was the last time he had such a substantial meal?

“I’ll have another of those,” the stranger told the waitress indicating the plate before pushing it across to Danny rumpling the paper in the process.

Danny looked at him surprised. He was about to open his mouth - to protest or thank him? He wasn’t entirely sure - but he got waved off.

“None of that. Just eat. You look like you need it.”

Danny frowned thoughtfully, but decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. At the first bite he moaned and leaned back as the greasy food hit the spot in his stomach.

The stranger let him eat for a while. He was observing Danny with a peculiar frown on his face every time Danny stole a glance at him. It didn’t take long for his own plate of food to arrive and Danny was glad for the distraction. Could it be that for some reason Danny was just as interesting to the stranger as the stranger inexplicably was to Danny?

Finally Danny pushed the plate away.

“So looking for work?” The stranger tried again after a moment of silence.

“I’m not doing anything illegal,” Danny said firmly crossing his arms and leaning back.

The man barked a short laugh in surprise.

“What makes you think I’d involve you in anything illegal?”

Danny’s gaze flicked pointedly to the barest outlines of the hidden weapons, before he raised an eyebrow.

“Point,” the stranger grinned tapping a finger thoughtfully on the table. What Danny would give to know what went through his head. Then he offered a hand towards Danny for a handshake.

Danny suspiciously took the glowed hand in his own and gave it a firm squeeze.

“Jason.” The stranger gave his name expectantly, and Danny felt compelled to offer his own, it was only polite.

“Danny.”

“Nice to meet you.” He said as he let Danny go.

“Remains to be seen.”

He grinned again at Danny’s sass. After a moment he pursed his lips thoughtfully before finally speaking.

“So here’s the deal. I’m moving back to my hometown and I’m looking for a roommate slash housekeeper to take care of the apartment when I’m gone since I travel a lot.”

Danny blinked in surprise. Then narrowed his eyes.

“I’m not having sex with you either.”

That stumped this Jason character, and Danny could believe the idea had not even occurred to him. That was at least one point in his favor and Danny relented.

“You gotta realize how weird and creepy this is? So what’s going on? We don’t know eachother.”

“I don’t-“ Jason rubbed his forehead, then leaned back almost as if taking a step back considering his actions. Hesitantly he said, “You seem a bit down on your luck, and I really could use someone to live in the apartment when I’m not around. A mostly empty apartment is easy pickings for break-ins. And it is big enough.”

He tilted his head, somehow the green in his eyes looked more pronounced when the light hit them like that. “And you seem trustworthy, somehow.”

“Well you don’t.”

He outright laughed at that. He really was nice to look at when he smiled, Danny mused. It made him look his age, took away the hard calculation in his gaze. Made him look less like some kind of hitman - which was Danny’s current theory as to Jason’s profession.

And - Danny supposes - there were worse jobs than being a live-in housekeeper to a hitman as long as he kept Danny out of his work. For one it would solve his housing situation - and just the thought that he was gonna have to go home to his parents' house at the end of the day to make an appearance crawled like skittering insects down his spine.

Once Danny was out somewhere more stable, he could also look for something new.

It didn’t solve his worry about the ghosts coming to Amity despite the portal being shut down, but while Jason did not at all ping Danny as trustworthy, there was still that something that drew Danny’s attention. Something he knew would eat at him if he left things at this.

“Okay, so say I agree, what then?”

Jason blinked in surprise clearly at this point not expecting Danny to agree - that made two of them.

“Uh, I suppose I give you the address. It’s in Gotham. You could ride with me, but you probably need to pack. Do you need funds for travel?”

He was already reaching inside his leather jacket and pulling out a roll of cash. Danny started laughing because this whole situation was ridiculous.

“I’m sorry,” he said, placatingly holding up a hand and trying to stop laughing, “I just can’t believe I’m doing this.“

Jason huffed. “I will give you that the entire situation is odd."

Their eyes met, two pairs of blue with a hint of hidden green. Danny couldn't help the smile that spread his lips. Jason rolled his eyes, but Danny could see him fighting a smile of his own.

Hitman or not, Jason seemed an okay sort - and, Danny mused, when taking a leap of faith it was a big advantage that one could fly.

-

Alternatively how early days Red Hood acquired a protector spirit for the fallback safehouse where he actually keeps his belongings.

Okay so I don't know when I will continue this, the future of this fic is still pretty vague in my head it's mostly like a mood of ace-spectrum Danny and Jason occasionally living together while Jason prepares to and eventually does upend the Gotham criminal underworld and everything goes up in fire.

Anyways, did you like it? Thoughts?

Edit: now with a masterpost you can subscribe to

[bitchface24-7]

Do you still do Yandere Viktor or Yandere Jayce? Could you make a dark story about these boys, plss... I don't see much dark fanfic about them

WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: you don't realize how obsessed they are with you. How possessive they are. It isn't until it’s staring you in the face do you realize how depraved your two friends are, and you're kinda into it.

warnings: yandere J and V, kleptomaniac J and V, stalking, thoughts of non-con somnophilia, a touch of non-con somnophilia, dirty fantasies, low-key oblivious R, getting Eiffel towered at the end, Grammarly as me beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. … don't judge me. I did say I'm one of the writers y'all should come to if you want taboo topics done, I'm letting my freak out ok? Ok. Hope y'all enjoy it! ❤️

You've known these two men for quite some time now.

You met Jayce first. You two shared a few classes at the academy and even partnered up a few times for partnered projects. He's sweet, kind, funny, and a teensy bit naive. He's so focused on assignments, studying, and his personal project, that he doesn't see the swath of men and women wanting to get into his pants.

A lot of your classmates and even some of the professors can't stand you. Because if Jayce's work doesn't have his attention— you do. They want the delectability of Jayce Talis all for themselves, instead he's giving it all to you.

(And eventually Viktor.)

You stayed in Jayces dorm room more often than your own. Eventually, you just kinda… moved in unintentionally.

Both your clothes shared a closet and a dresser, your fragrances joined Jayces, your toothbrushes sat in the same cup together. It was domestic.

You started to notice some of your underwear going missing. But you thought nothing of it. Shit goes missing all the time, the dryer once ate one of Jayce's vests. Your undies are no match.

(What you don't know is that Jayce has them in a box hidden away in his under-the-bed storage system. The same drawers you have on your side of the bed. When he gets the chance— the very few chances he gets, he fucks his cock into your undies. His tight grip caused delicious moans to escape his plump lips. He envisions what you'd look like wearing them, and cums when he envisions you taking them off shyly and spreading your legs. Your sex dripping with its arousal.)

Everything was going well, until the apartment blew up, Jayce went on trial, defended his project and you vigorously, and at the end of it all— lost his research and wasn't banished.

The breath of relief that escaped you was monumental. Then everything else became a blur. You met Heimerdinger’s Assistant Viktor, you broke into his office, you proved Hextexh could work.

Viktor became Jayce’s second partner after that.

And you officially joined the scandal that caused all this mess.

T’was the start of a wonderful friendship!

(full of depravity, thievery, and lust)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Jayce and Viktor work hard, constantly to improve Hextech and to improve the lives of both the citizens of Piltover and Zaun.

You make sure that they also take care of themselves.

You help out in any way you can.

Bouncing ideas off one another, being a second pair of eyes to an equation, ensuring they take time off to eat and sleep. Their shining light in a neverending cloud of darkness.

Jayce has a relatively good sleep schedule.

Viktor's is horrendous.

So much so that you bought a good quality bed hidden away in an alcove of the lab, and a few futons to rest on. Viktor is too determined to continue working. He won’t stop to leave to go back to his tiny apartment for a few hours of sleep.

There have been too many times you've caught him passed out at his desk for you to allow this to keep happening.

So you bargained.

He can stay in the lab as long as he wants, but he needs to get at LEAST six hours of sleep per night.

He fought, he fought hard until you said now everyone has the opportunity to stay overnight at the lab if they get too tired. That working when exhausted leads to more mistakes and injuries. Being able to take a small nap can rejuvenate the mind and get you to solve that mind-numbing problem you couldn't before.

When you added in the puppy dog eyes regarding Viktor’s health… he folded like a wet piece of tissue paper.

(it also helps he gets to see you in pyjamas, all messy and purely you. How you toss and turn at night, how your hair gets all fucked up in the morning because of it. How delicious you are, served on a silver platter without realizing it. Viktor’s been tempted to touch you. When he's still up working and he sees you passed out on the bed. How soft would your skin be? How plump? Are your lips always that tempting? Your legs are devilish, your back desirable, your ass biteable, and your chest begs him to fondle it.

He does. One night he does. He fondles it as lightly as he can. Tweaking your nipples until they're rock hard, a shiver and mewl escaping your lips. He sees you wiggle a bit in your sleep, your thighs clenched together as he continues his assault. When he spots the wet patch on your pyjamas; it's over for him. He quickly whips his dick out and rubs one out. His one free hand leaves your chest and trails down your body, eventually hitting your wet spot. When you moan loudly— a mix of his and Jayces name, he cums. It almost hits you in the face. After that, he has a few ideas he wants to pass by Jayce.)

You can't help but smile as you see how close Jayce and Viktor have gotten over the last few months. You've heard rumours about both men, how they can be standoffish. Sometimes a bit impatient when someone doesn't understand what they're explaining.

But they flow together like one unit— it's incredible to see. Besides, they're always sweet to you, so you take all the rumours you hear with a grain of salt.

Especially the dirty ones.

How they are in bed, what their cocks are like, how they sound, their dirty kinks, how they rock their partner's world. The thing is, both of them have taken partners that look strikingly similar to one person.

You.

Your hair and eye colour, your haircut, your height, your body type. They're going after your doppelgangers. Most recently you heard about them taking their partner at the same time.

(you're NOT jealous)

(… you are so jealous)

And you keep losing things! You don't know how much underwear you have left. Also, your favourite fragrance has… changed. You used at least a quarter of the bottle, and you remember denting the cap when you accidentally dropped it.

Now there's a brand new bottle on the vanity you and Jayce share. You remember asking him what happened to your old bottle but he looked so flustered and could barely put a sentence together that you came to a charming conclusion.

Jayce accidentally broke your old one and got you a replacement as an apology.

You can't help but smile at the flustered man and give him a kiss on the cheek for his sweet actions— you swear you heard him whimper.

(the old bottle never broke. It's in the lab hidden away in his desk in a secret compartment. That way he can spray it in the air when you're not around— and he and Viktor can still smell you.)

That night, when Jayce and Viktor stayed late in the lab, you touched yourself to the thought of them. How sweet they are, how handsome, how sexy. They're all yours, and your greedy little heart couldn't be any happier. You don't even attempt to be quiet, knowing you're the only one at home.

What you don't realize is Jayce and Viktor heard the whole thing. Viktor had quite a bad coughing attack so Jayce decided to take him back to his place to get taken care of. They could sleep for a bit and go back to the lab. Your wonton moans completely derailed that train.

And everything comes crashing down one day in a way you never expected.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next morning as Jayce and Viktor bicker over what to have for breakfast, you accidentally drop your chaptick. Thank god you hadn't opened it yet, but it rolled under the bed on Jayce’s side. Without hesitation, you drop to your knees to get your chapstick— instead you find something else.

A massive box piled high with all your missing undergarments. You stare at the box in shock. You thought they just went missing! The drier ate them! It’s done that before to socks and one time to Jayce's vest! You never even imagined Jayce stealing them.

With a fire in your veins, you go to confront him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

That confrontation went horrendously. Jayce felt no shame, Viktor admitted to… appreciating you when you slept in the lab to try to get some heat off of Jayce, that riled you up further, and then Jayce spat out that they both heard you last night touching yourself like a dirty little whore.

That shut you up.

What’s currently shutting you up is Viktor’s cock shoved all the way down your throat as Jayce pounds away at your sensitive hole.

Fuck it feels so good being plugged up on both ends. Jayce grunting and whining as Viktor commands him. His voice low and moans so sweet. You think you’re in your own personalized heaven.

That is until Viktor sets his sights on you again, “You’re not so innocent either. I remember when you left your journal at the lab accidentally. I may have… taken a small peak. Your desires are so perverse my dear. Wanting to sit on Jayce’s face. Have me finger and choke you in the lab. Being tag teamed by the both of us. Then we heard you last night. Panting and moaning out our names, like a slut. So… how’s the real deal compared to your dirty fantasies? I bet you actually liked knowing how desperate we are for you. That Jayce stole your underwear, that I defiled your body as you slept. You moaned so sweetly for me that I almost came on your face.”

Jayce and you both moan loudly at Viktor’s nasty words. The vibrations cause Viktor to hiss through his teeth.

“Viktor… they like that. Holy fuck, they like that a lot. Your words made them clench so fucking hard.”

The smirk Jayce gets in return for those words can only be described as devilish. Before you know it, every dirty thought, fantasy, and kink is said to you.

“I want to litter you with all my marks. My teeth, my bruises, my cum. You're mine. You're Jayce's. You're ours.”

“I want to see what you look like tied up and overstimulated.”

“Jayce has a deep desire to fuck you standing in front of a window. He's droned on and on about it in the lab when you're not there.”

“I want to see you spent, shaking, and crying. One day we'll dedicate a day purely to fuck you.”

You cum, violently. You're shaking, whining, and feel amazing. Jayce cums after you, balls deep inside you as he groans, and Viktor cums last. His balls touch your chin as he shoots his load down your throat.

You're all panting in the king-size bed, spent, and heavily satisfied.

Eventually, you break the silence, “Jayce, what happened to my bottle of,” you gulp a big breath of air, trying to catch your breath, “Eau De Parfum? I assumed you broke it.”

“It's in the lab. We use it every once in a while when we miss you.”

You awe at that, “Creepy, but very sweet.”

“You love us.”

And dammit he's right, you do.

You shouldn't. But you do.

…. send me to horny jail *boNk*

[rafeysvenicebitch]

cowboy!rafe x babydoll!readerੈ✩‧₊˚

cw: SMUT, p in v(semi rough), cussing, fluff

summary: Rafe comes back from a long work day to surprise you…with an engagement ring

It was late, and the sky was painted in dusty pinks and sleepy purples. Fireflies blinked in the tall grass just beyond the porch, and the air was thick with the scent of summer. Honeysuckle, cedarwood, and the smoke curling lazily from Rafe’s cigarette.

You were sitting sideways in his lap on the old wooden bench out back, arms wrapped around his neck, your baby-pink sundress soft against his sweat-dampened flannel. He’d been working over at the neighbor’s ranch all day, helping mend fences and break in a wild colt. Came home with sunburnt shoulders and dust on his jeans, and still he looked at you like you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

You’d made him another dinner, despite his protests, despite your teasing when he asked for seconds. And now you were telling him stories from your shift at the diner—sweet little things he liked to pretend didn’t melt his heart. How a little girl drew you a picture with crayon hearts, how you gave a lonely old man an extra slice of pie. How a tourist couple asked if you were a doll come to life.

He laughed low in his chest, dragging gently on his smoke before flicking the ash. “They’re not wrong,” he said. “You are a doll.”

You blushed, tucked your face against his neck. “Stop it…”

He kissed your temple, held you tighter. “Don’t think you realize how much I love sittin’ like this. You, me, quiet night, nothin’ but stars and the sound of your voice.”

You hummed, content, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. “I like it too. Feels like home.”

Then it went quiet.

Too quiet.

You felt him shift beneath you. One arm stayed around your waist, the other reached into his back pocket. Before you could ask what he was doing, he was holding a small black box in his calloused hand—fingers shaking just a little.

You blinked. “Rafe…”

He opened it slow. Inside: a soft glow catching on yellow gold and a freesia-inspired hidden halo wrapped around a perfect marquise-cut lab diamond. Elegant. Delicate. So you.

“I been carryin’ this around for a while,” he said, voice low and steady. “Waitin’ for the right night. Turns out, any night with you’s the right one.”

Your breath hitched.

“You already take care of me like a wife, cook f’e, iron my clothes, give me love. Already love me better than I ever deserved. You’re it for me, babydoll. Always have been. So, let’s not waste any more time.”

His voice cracked just a bit at the end.

“Marry me.”

You stared at him, heart racing, eyes stinging, lips trembling—and then you nodded so hard you nearly lost your balance.

“Yes,” you breathed, tears spilling over your cheeks as you cupped his face. “Yes, Rafe. Of course I will.”

He slid the ring on your finger like it belonged there—like it always had—and kissed you hard, deep, forever.

From that night on, every time he called you his wife, it didn’t sound like a pet name anymore.

It sounded like a promise.

The ring glinted on your finger as you stepped inside, Rafe's arms wrapping around you instantly. He lifted you up, mouth crashing against yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

"You're mine now," he murmured against your lips, voice thick with emotion. "Finally, completely mine."

You hummed happily, nipping at his bottom lip before breaking away. "Always have been," you reminded him, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "But I love that it's official."

He carried you to the bedroom, setting you down gently on the bed before crawling over you. His hands framed your face as he stared down at you, eyes full of adoration.

"I love you so fucking much," he breathed, thumb brushing over your cheek. "Can't believe I get to call you my wife."

Your heart fluttered at the raw tenderness in his voice. "I love you too," you whispered back, reaching up to touch his face. "More than anything."

He kissed you then, slow and sweet, pouring all his love into it. His hands roamed your body reverently, slipping under your dress to caress your skin.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, kissing down your neck. "My beautiful bride."

You arched into his touch, craving more. "Please, Rafe," you whimpered. "I need you."

He groaned, grinding his hips against yours. "Need to make love to you," he panted, already pulling your dress over your head. "Gonna worship this body like it deserves."

He undressed you slowly, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. By the time he had you naked beneath him, you were writhing with desire.

"Look at you," he rasped, hand sliding down your stomach to cup your mound. "Already so wet for me. My sweet little wife."

You gasped as he circled your clit with his thumb, hips rocking into his touch. "Only for you," you promised breathlessly. "Only ever you."

He dipped his head to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking and flicking the bud with his tongue. His other hand continued its slow torment between your legs, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," you begged, hands fisting in his hair. "I need to cum, Rafe. Need it so bad."

He nodded, fingers plunging deep inside you as his thumb rubbed your clit. It only took a few pumps and curls before you were coming apart, back arching off the bed as pleasure crashed over you.

He stood to remove the rest of his clothes, freeing his thick erection. You licked your lips at the sight of it, reaching out to stroke him from base to tip.

"Fuck," he groaned, hips thrusting into your hand. "Gonna fuck you so good, baby. Gonna fuck cunt like it deserves."

He covered your body with his, lining himself up with your entrance. He pushed in slow, giving you time to adjust to his size.

"So tight," he panted, forehead resting against yours. "Fucking perfect. Made for me."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Yes," you hissed. "All yours, Rafe. Only yours."

He set a steady pace, hips rolling into yours with deep, purposeful thrusts. His mouth found yours in a searing kiss, tongues tangling together.

"Cum with me," he urged, hand sliding between your bodies to rub your clit. "Wanna feel you on my cock."

Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, body clenching around him as you cried out his name. He followed seconds later with a low groan, spurting hot and deep inside you.

Afterward, he gathered you close, peppering your face with soft kisses. "I love you," he murmured against your lips. "My sweet babydoll."

"I love you too," you replied sleepily, already feeling yourself drift off in his arms. "Forever and always."

Taglist: @memoirofasparklemuff1n @rafesbabygirlx @ilovefiction4lmen @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses @rafeyscumangel @rafeyscumangel-recs @skel-skell @mqyra

[nbraraeaves]

rule 34 --

(Hector Valentino Airnesto Condicionado x plus size non-binary reader, 18+)

summary: Reading some of Hector's work leads to you requesting he leaves the safety of the attic to come visit you in your bedroom.

warnings: reading grate-based erotica as emotional foreplay. fingerfucking, oral sex (nbi receiving and m receiving, respectively), penetrative sex, dacryphilia, blindfolded sex, body worship, biting/marking, mild restraints, both are switches to a degree, voice kink, use of a cock ring, edging if you squint, discussions of feelings and insecurity, reassurance.

hector notes: chubby hector supremacy. I find I write him as semi-agoraphobic with gomez addams aspirations; there is some acknowledgement of past voyeurism but reader is into it.

reader notes: reader is plus size, queer, and non-binary (ftn). affectionate pet names are mostly gender neutral. all mentions of skin/hair have been kept as neutral as possible, though suggestions are appreciated to make the experience more seamless. reader is also just as loquacious and just as much of a yearner, be advised.

general: anyone order [checks notes] 15.5k words of HVAC smut?

god, I need this man in a way that's troubling to multiple schools of social thought. the way he got me out of a fanfic rut should be studied in a lab.

anyway! here we go. no use of y/n or anything similar, as always. no betas, I'm just dead.

Seeking a respite from the relentless summer heat outside, you’d taken advantage of a now-rare quiet moment in your bedroom to catch up on some light reading.

It was funny, in a way, how suddenly that change had come about. You couldn’t begin to number how many afternoons you’d sat alone in your bedroom with a book, spending more time in imaginary worlds than in the real one when you could get away with it. This had simply been your usual routine for about as long as you had lived here. 

With the advent of the Dateviators, however, an entire social life had emerged in the halls you’d thought you haunted alone. Over the last few weeks, it was increasingly uncommon for you to walk into any room without finding someone there hoping for a companionable chat, or with some sort of request now that they were able to communicate with you directly.

As much as you appreciated your new friends — and your new lovers in particular, a development that still gave you a giddy rush — there was still a longing, every now and then, for your familiar state of solitude: curled up on your bed with the sun streaming in through your window to illuminate your pages. Especially now, in what you considered your “fancy” pajamas: a thin-strapped top and shorts, both in a dark silk (the nicest set you owned, a holiday gift from years back), with clean sheets, and a comfortable chill about the room. Had this been any other day before the Dateviators, you would’ve been in a tiny paradise all your own.

…However. The longer you pored over this particular book, the less appealing your solitude was beginning to seem after all.

The book your fingers curled around now was honestly impressively hand-bound, the pages remarkably well typeset for being… independently produced, in a way.

You’d found Grate Expectations upstairs in the attic, off to the side of Hector’s HVAC shell. It looked so official that you’d mistaken in for one of the saucier books from your early twenties in Lady Memoria’s boxes, until you saw your beloved’s name on the cover. Upon realizing what it was, you’d recalled the time he’d read you just a snippet when you’d half-jokingly requested it, and left you out of breath on unsteady knees when he’d finished. It shouldn’t be a real surprise, you reasoned, that you’d ended up smuggling it out of the attic, deeply curious to see just where the rest of the book went from where he’d left off.

And now, at every small sound in the hall or the adjacent rooms, you found yourself looking up with a guilty start, pulling the book closer to your chest so no one would catch a glimpse of just what was on the page. It’s not that you were ashamed to be reading it — there was nothing wrong with romance or erotica, and you still enjoyed both a great deal, obviously.

It just felt… different. This was Hector’s, and he’d written it about you. About the pair of you, together. It was private. Intimate.

It was that same sense of privacy that was the cause of your current guilt; he hadn’t told you that you could take it, or that you could read beyond what he’d shared. Even though it was about you, he had likely written it just for himself. To read it without his knowledge felt like a betrayal of his trust.

But even the guilt was outweighed by the way the prose had you pushing your thighs together without realizing, swallowing thickly, your hips squirming slightly against your mattress as you read the very detailed, very vivid fantasies of just what he’d longed to do with you — and to you. Over and over, with a passion that threatened to scald your fingertips at the edge of the pages.

At one point, you simply had to close the book over your thumb, your thighs pressed tight against each other and your face hot to the touch. The embers of curiosity had turned to a gnawing heat in the deepest part of you, your pulse racing even though you were lying perfectly still.

Staring at your ceiling, you bit your lip and calculated your options. Handle this yourself, and save your beloved any potential embarrassment from your snooping…

Or come clean, with all that might follow.

You gazed at the grate on the wall across from you, chewing your lip slightly as you did so. It was honestly kind of surprising he hadn’t already been there to notice the heat on your face, the way your breathing was already shallower than usual.

After a moment, you cleared your throat and willed your voice to sound light, casual. “Hey, Hector?”

There was the briefest pause, followed by a sound of motion in the ducts above you. A moment later, a familiar pair of adroit hands emerged from the grate, and a flash of clever, kind eyes in the darkness. 

“Hello, my love.” Hector’s voice was sweet, as though somehow still surprised you’d call on him. “Enjoying your day? I’ve heard it’s quite harsh outside. I’ve been minding the temperature in here accordingly; I know you you prefer things on the cool side.” The little note of pride in his voice was downright precious; it was as though your new relationship had made him even more committed to keeping you comfortable at all times.

You barely had time to open your mouth when you saw the dark eyes narrow, and you could picture his brow furrowing above them. You couldn’t help a bit of a smile — he was nothing if not attentive.

“Are you alright?” His voice sounded concerned. His hands moved, wrapping around the vent slats as if to support him leaning closer to inspect you.

“Why do you ask, babe?” You raised an eyebrow as you sat up to face him, hoping your smile didn’t give away your guilt. Your hand was holding the book face down on your mattress, hoping his attentiveness would be on your face for now.

“I — well.” Hector’s eyes glanced askance as he searched for the words. “You look lovely, don’t get me wrong — you could never not look glorious to me, just as you are. It’s only…” he paused. “You look… piqued, my sweet. A little more flush than usual. Is it still hot in here?” His frown was almost audible, and it was adorable. “I could’ve sworn I had this room cooler than the others…”

“I’m fine, Hector,” you reassured him. You scooted closer to the vent on your mattress, hoping he could see your smile was genuine. “The room has been perfect, as usual. Thank you.”

Hector made a concerned noise, and you got the feeling he didn’t want to contradict you outright. “You just look… warm,” he said, a hand reappearing to gesture towards you. “Your hair on your neck, and your skin… are you feeling alright?” His eyes searched your face. “If you’re feverish, I could get Farya—”

“I’m okay, Hector.” You moved so you were sitting on the end of your bed now, peering up into the vent. “I promise you, I’d tell you if I wasn’t. Believe me?”

The grate made a noise as Hector leaned against it again, looking you over more thoroughly… before he seemed satisfied, if not entirely convinced. “I do. But is there still something I can do for you, darling? You did call me,” he reminded you.

“So I did.” You looked down for a second at the back cover of the book, debating if you were really going through with this, then back up at the grate. “Would you mind… coming in here, for a sec? If you’re not busy,” you added quickly.

“I’m never too busy for you, love,” he said, and you recognized the more fervent fire in his eyes that came in his particularly inspired moments. “That’d be like being too busy to breathe. But…” He paused, again somewhat uncertain. “I am… already in here, am I not?” He gestured loosely to your bedroom, his voice a tinge worried like you’d somehow forgotten where you were.

“No, I meant, like… physically, in here.” When there was still a hesitant silence, you nodded towards the doorway. “Like, all of you. In here. With me.”

“…As in, leave the attic?” Hector said, clearly fighting to keep his voice from going up an octave.

You nodded, widening your eyes to look as innocuous as possible. “I’m just right down the hall — there’s only the closet between us, right?”

“And the entirety of The Breaker Box,” Hector pointed out. His hands were antsy, fingers fidgeting with each other. “Are you sure I can’t just… talk to you here? As we already are? Or you could come to me,” he suggested, voice brightening. 

It was your turn to hesitate — despite the breakthrough the two of you had made together, Hector still didn’t like running the risk of being perceived if he didn’t have to be. While he seemed to even enjoy you seeing him, now, other people seeing him was iffy at best. You imagined the proximity to one of the flashier clubs in the house didn’t help, especially with Volt and Eddie around. He knew you were seeing them just as he knew about all your other relationships, and while he wasn’t given to jealousy (at least, not in front of you), you had to imagine that if being in Volt’s gaze still gave you a tingling feeling in your stomach, then it would send Hector running for the rafters.

“I was actually hoping…” You chose your words carefully, knowing how ‘hope’ would be a loaded one for him. “To spend some time with you… alone.” You gestured loosely to your empty bedroom. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate with the weather and all,” you said, doing your best to sound innocent. “But I was just thinking, if you had a few spare moments… maybe I could impose and steal you away? While things are quiet?”

“You could never impose,” Hector said quickly. “Nothing you could ask of me could be an imposition, love, I assure you. My time is yours, entirely.” But his hands were still moving, fingers lacing and twisting anxiously even as he said it.

You watched his hands for a long moment, your teeth grazing your lip. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. “…I wouldn’t want to  ask anything that would make you uncomfortable,” you said after a moment. “If you’d rather not, it’s okay. I can always come by yours another time—?”

“No!” Hector said it so immediately, it took you both by surprise. “No, really, it’s not… it’s not an issue,” he went on, and though you couldn’t see him, you could picture the pained smile he was forcing. “Not at all. In fact, I’d love to visit you. I was just thinking about… a change of scenery,” he ended flatly, and it was so unconvincing you had to try not to giggle.

“Just, uh.” His eyes roved around the vent, clearly trying to figure this out. “Give me a few minutes, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” you said quickly. “And really, Hector, if it’s not something you want to do—”

“Oh no, I want to!” Hector cut you off, his voice climbing again as he fought to sound light and carefree. “Very much! Honestly, I should’ve done it ages ago! I’ll just... be right there!”

“Take your time, babe,” you called after his retreating hands.

“I’ll see you soon!” Hector called back, and while you could hear him trying to sound eager, you could also hear the little anxious groan he let slip as he got further away from the opening of the vent.

You’d honestly lost track of time, having returned to the book to keep yourself occupied while you waited. It hadn’t taken long before you were sprawled on your stomach, devouring page after page, trying to ignore the way your hips were subtly pushing against your mattress when you read a turn of phrase you found particularly… stirring.

It was the shuffle of some sort of fabric that made you look up, accompanied by a low, nervous humming, and someone muttering quickly under their breath. The sounds came closer and closer to your room, causing you to sit fully upright, though your finger still marked your place. “Hello?”

A figure covered in blue tarp rounded the corner into your room, which you only recognized from the eyes peeking out beneath a makeshift hood. “Can I close the door?” It spoke in a rush, sounding out of breath.

You blinked, trying to understand what you were seeing. “Hector?”

“Please?” he wheedled just slightly, his voice up an octave. “If- if you don’t mind, that is?” he added, remembering himself.

It took you a second to process what he was asking. “Yeah, of course.” You nodded, waving a hand. “Go ahead, if that makes you more comfortable.”

Hector quickly closed out the rest of the house, only letting the tarp slide backwards from his head when the two of you were alone in the room. He let out a sigh of relief as his head fell back against the wood with a ‘thud’, smiling weakly as he caught his breath. “I made it.” His eyes met yours, sparkling with triumph. “I’m out of the attic.”

“You are!” You beamed, pushing off your bed to meet him where he stood. “That’s a big step for you, darling. Congratulations.”

His eyes only brightened as you approached, and when you kissed him hello, he more than eagerly reciprocated. The tarp rustled as he let go of it, and it fell off his shoulders like an odd cape. You meant to ask about it, but his arms encircled your waist, and you found yourself pressing your hands against the cabinet doors of his coat, sliding down until your fingers curled around the handles. With his mouth on yours and the passion of his writing fresh in your mind, you used them to tug him even closer, deepening your kiss.

Hector made a small noise of surprise, but clearly found this agreeable, one hand sliding up your back to squeeze gently at the nape of your neck — one of his favorite places on you, as it always made you shiver slightly when he did so. For a moment, you were caught up in how his form felt against yours, how he held you like you were something precious, until you both at last parted for air.

“…Hi,” you said at last, unable to help a shy grin.

Hector grinned himself, his arms still hugging you close. “Hello, my love.” He reached up to trace lightly at the strap of your top, his eyes gleaming. “I must say, I’ve always thought these were… something.” His eyes flicked back to yours. “I like them.”

“Well. Thank you.” You felt your skin heat, and you played cool by reaching up to rest your arms on his shoulders. “I… like yours too?” You glanced over at the blue tarp, trying for an encouraging smile. “It’s very avant garde.”

Hector laughed nervously, nudging the tarp closer to the door with his foot. “Ah. Yes. That. It’s…” He paused, clearly trying to think quickly. “A… cloak? Of sorts? Or at least, that’s what it’s inspired by? Not that anyone really wears those anymore, of course, but, uh…” The longer he talked, the more a blush spread across his face, and that familiar self-conscious look of his with it.

“Hey.” You kissed his cheek, distracting him. “If it got you here to me, I’m all for it. You do whatever helps, angel.”

Hector seemed to catch his breath, his expression unmistakably relieved. “I appreciate your understanding, as always.” He kissed your cheek in turn, never one to let affection go unreciprocated. He then wandered lower, his lips grazing your neck. “Now, before I get too ahead of myself… did you have something in mind for this visit, amor?”

Ah, right. This part.

“…Yes, actually.” You fidgeted with a lock of his hair, trying to decide on your approach. Would he be angry? He’d shared it with you before, but he’d never outright said you could read all of it…

Hector’s lips stilled just under your chin, his eyes meeting yours. “…Yes?” He prompted, a note of concern creeping in.

You bit your lip, taking a steadying breath before you spoke. “I… owe you a bit of an apology.”

Hector stood back up to his full height, searching your face. “I’m sure you don’t,” he said, laughing a bit uneasily. “Whatever for?”

You kept biting your lip, worrying it between your teeth. “Well. It’s... a little awkward —”

“Please tell me you haven’t changed your mind,” he cut you off, his voice abruptly strained.

You paused, looking up to see his suddenly wracked expression. “I - What?”

“Me. Being here. Out of the - the vent.” Hector’s eyes darted to said vent and back to you. 

“Oh! No, Hector.” You shook your head, your hand falling from his hair to stroke his cheek. “No, love, I really wanted to see you” Your brow furrowed. “Why would I change my mind?”

He gave you a half-smile, and while he reached up so his hand covered yours, he still couldn’t quite meet your eyes. “I just thought… With the light and all, well.” He gave a small shrug. “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Hector.” You moved your other hand to cup his face in both of yours, forcing him to look at you. “Nothing could be further from the truth. As a matter of fact, I asked you here because I wanted…” You paused, your eyes slipping to the floor as you tried to figure out just how to say ‘you to rail me stupid like in the multi-chapter erotica you wrote about us’ in a manner befitting the artist in front of you. It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t been intimate-ish, before now. Hector was just as gifted with his hands as he was with his words, and he loved the sounds you made, now that he could give you his full attention without the grate between you. But he’d been hesitant to go much further than that, still seemingly too anxious to let you reciprocate his physical affection.

Was this too much? Were you basically ambushing the guy because you wanted to fuck him? Were you finally going to out-weird him, like you always knew you eventually would?

“What is it, my love?” Hector tilted his head to catch your gaze again and to lean his face against your palm. “Anything I can do for you, I will, you know that.” His fingers intertwined with yours. “You need only ask. There’s no need to apologize for that — nothing would please me more.”

His face was so sweet, so earnest and open, that you felt a twinge of guilt amidst the heat pooling in your gut.

“…That’s a little bit what I’m concerned about,” you mumbled. You held up a finger as his brow knit together, confused, and walked over to where the book still lay on your blankets. You picked it up, taking a breath, and when you turned to face him, you were holding it up for him to see the cover.

Hector frowned for the few seconds it took him to recognize the cover, at which his eyes widened — with surprise or concern, you couldn’t quite tell.

“So.” You shifted slightly where you stood. “I kind of… borrowed this, without your permission. And I’ve been, well, reading. Also without your permission.” Your tongue wet your lips. “Hence, I owe you an apology.”

“…Oh.” Hector’s voice was faint, and you could see him desperately trying to keep his anxiety in check and failing. “I — no need to apologize, amor, really. I did share it with you before, after all.” He attempted a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were trying to read your face as desperately as you were trying to read his.

“You did,” you acknowledged. “But I still should’ve asked. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, and that wasn’t fair of me.” You waited for a moment, before shifting so you were now hugging the book against your chest. “But I’ve been… really quite enthralled.”

Hector perked up immediately, though his eyes were still cautious. “‘Enthralled’?” he repeated.

You nodded. “I started it this morning, and I just… haven’t been able to put it down.” You turned it slightly to reveal the dozens of pages you’d pored through already. 

“Oh,” Hector repeated, even softer than before. He looked from the pages, to your eyes, all too briefly to your lips and back up again. “I’m glad to hear, my love.” A blush was settling over his cheeks and moving up towards his ears. “You have always been my most… inspiring muse.” His tongue darted out over his own lips. “I often find myself unable to write of anything else.”

You pressed the book tighter against your chest subconsciously, and his eyes dropped immediately, definitely noticing. “I’m honored.” You found yourself whispering, though you were the only ones in the room. “To occupy the mind of such a talented writer… I can’t even begin to put into words how flattered I am, Hector.” You couldn’t help a smile. 

Hector’s eyes were saucers, for once struck silent.

Your eyes dropped again, the weight of what you were about to ask suddenly sinking in. “I just… I can’t help but worry, a little,” you spoke slowly, choosing your words. “Because on the page, I’m everything you want, and I don’t know if I can even begin to measure up in the flesh. I desperately want to try, but I don’t… I don’t want to rush you,” you explained. “Or ask anything of you before you’re ready or comfortable, I want to respect your boundaries. But I also just want… well. You.” You looked up at last, hoping that made sense.

Hector’s pupils were blown black, and it took you a second to fully register his expression —

Before you realized it was the starkest look of outright hunger you’d ever seen.

On anyone else, it would’ve tinged the fire at your center with fear. But now, on him? You wondered if you’d burn before he even put his hands on you.

“You could never,” he whispered. “Not be what I want. I want you exactly as you are, as you’ll have me, always.”

He closed the distance between the two of you, his lips mere inches from yours. His eyes jumped from those to meet your gaze and back again, clearly torn. You felt his hands brush yours — warmer than usual, and faintly shaking — before he swallowed hard.

“If we’re to- to proceed,” Hector said, forcing a tremor from his voice. “I’d ask three things of you, my love.”

“Name them,” you said instantly, and for a moment, his hunger gave way to something much softer at your willingness.

Hector took another breath, as though he was having trouble keeping up. “First,” he said, and his hand reached to move your hair away from your cheek. “Is that you’ll put your total and complete trust in me.”

You caught his hand in your own, turning to press an open-mouthed kiss into his calloused palm. “You have that already,” you said quietly, your lips not totally removed from his skin as you did so. “You know that, Hector.”

Hector’s tongue darted over his lower lip, and he stepped between your feet so there was barely room to whisper between the two of you. “I’m asking,” he breathed. “That you give me control, mi vida.” His thumb traced your mouth. “Just for a little while, just... just so I can take care of you. Like you deserve. Like I know I can, with precision.”

His eyes were so deadly serious, so fathomless, that for the span of a heartbeat you kind of forgot to breathe.

Instead, when your brain took over and nudged you abruptly, you responded by taking Hector’s thumb into the heat of your mouth and nodding.

Hector made a sound somewhere on the cusp of a groan and a gasp, and as your tongue laved at the rough whorl of his fingerprint, his other hand cupped the other side of your jaw.

“The second,”  he went on, his voice softer now. “Is that you’ll let me blindfold you.”

You paused in your attention to his hand, your tongue actually freezing in place on his skin for a second as your brain shorted out once more.

Hector smiled, but his brow wrinkled just enough to betray his concern. “Which is why I required your complete trust, first and foremost. Remember?”

When you pulled your mouth off his digit, a delicate string of saliva connected you still to his skin. You went to wipe it away, feeling heat return to your face in embarrassment, but Hector was faster, pulling it back from your mouth and onto his thumb.

You blinked, for a second taken by just how quickly he moved, before you met his gaze again. “…I do actually want to see you, at some point,” you said quietly. You reached up, your hand stroking his hair lovingly. “You’re the major draw for me here, after all.”

Hector let out a short, abrupt laugh that was somehow startled and amused all at once.

“It’s true,” you protested, your hand coming up to cup his face. “Even if you refuse to believe it, despite my many, many declarations to the contrary.”

Hector leaned his face into your palm and closed his eyes like he was resting against a sun-warmed window pane. “I believe you, my love,” he murmured. His eyes opened, and his familiar sweet-but-slightly frazzled expression returned. “Even if it takes the rest of me a while to… agree.”

You smiled back. “I’ll take that, for now.” You stroked your fingers along the soft line of his jaw. “…Right. Blindfold, yes, but you have to let me take it off when it’s my turn.”

It was Hector’s turn to pause, his eyes giving him away by going slightly wide. “Your- your turn?”

You stepped into Hector’s space as he had into yours, standing up slightly on your toes to put your mouth a tantalizing space away from his. “I’ll surrender my control and my sight,” you said, your eyes moving slowly from his eyes to his lips. “But at some point, I’d want reciprocation.” You tilted your head to look at him while his jaw dropped ever so slightly. “Is that something you’d be okay with?”

Hector took a sharp, shallow breath, his mouth soundlessly trying to form words before at last he simply closed it and nodded eagerly. As if to emphasize this, he licked his thumb where you’d sucked it, cleaning your saliva from his skin and making a show of swallowing.

You turned back to your nightstand, grabbing a black silk sleep mask from where it rested on the surface, and held it out for him to inspect. “Acceptable?”

Hector tilted his head, then took it gently from you to hold it up to the light and rub the fabric between his fingers, before he nodded at last. 

“And the third thing?” you asked as you took it back, remembering.

Hector shook his head once. “Blindfold first. The two are connected.”

You prevaricated for an instant, fiddling with the sleek fabric in your fingers. This was going to be your first time with him, fully, and not knowing the third condition first only heightened the crackling nervousness that came with this milestone.

But the way he looked at you with a gentle, hopeful smile, his eyes bright as he looked you over with an obvious tenderness… you found what little tension there was easing from between your shoulders. This was Hector, after all. He was downright devoted to you. The idea of causing you any sort of discomfort had been sacrilege to him on multiple occasions.

“So…” You paused, looking down at your pajamas. You were grateful you’d at least picked a nicer pair for laying around than your usual worn out t-shirt and underwear. “Before I put this on, should I—”

“I’ll be handling that,” Hector interrupted. Though his voice didn’t change, he stated it more than said it, and the unexpected confidence was, honestly, quite hot.

“Oh, well. Be my guest.” You winked, trying to match him, but the way he blushed hard as the heat rushed back to your face reminded you that you were both still… yourselves, at the heart of it all.

You bit your lower lip for a moment more, the jitters of anticipation clashing with the smooth heat at the pit of your stomach. But you saw Hector’s eyes drop immediately to your mouth, the hunger back in his gaze, and the jolt it sent through you made you at last settle the dark silk over your eyes.

In the ensuing black, it was hard not to immediately become more aware of every other sensation: how the fabric of your clothes settled against your now hyper-sensitive skin, the feeling of the floor pressed up into the soles of your bare feet, the utter silence that settled over the room —

The way the temperature of the room seemed to climb two or three degrees almost immediately.

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. One of the fun parts of having your HVAC as your boyfriend was the fact that the very air often gave away what he was really thinking.

Hector had been so still, so quiet, you’d been wondering if this was an opening move on his part. But then you heard the susurrus of fabric moving from over in his direction, the soft thuds of him shedding what you were betting were his sandals. After another moment, you heard cautious footsteps on your floorboards, until there was an undeniable presence directly behind you.

Something light ghosted across your hair, stroking it lovingly, before oh-so-carefully shifting it to expose the side of your neck as much as possible. You couldn’t help the pleasurable shiver that ran down your spine, and you tilted your head to expose your neck even further, part of you worried Hector’s insecurity would’ve read the reflex in bad faith.

A heat radiated close to your back, and another came to rest delicately against the skin of your breastbone. Hector’s hand, broad and impossibly warm, seemed to take up the entirety of your sternum -- palm first, heavy and sure, before his fingers stretched across your skin like they wanted to take up as much space as possible. A longing sigh brushed your shoulder, the unexpected warmth causing your head to turn as though to look --

He made a soft noise of denial, his other hand coming up to guide your jaw with the barest pressure of his fingertips so you faced forward again.

“The third condition,” Hector rasped, his mouth right next to your ear. “Is that you indulge me, and I might speak as I used to.” 

You smiled, immediately recognizing what the two of you had jokingly referred to as “Vent Voice” in the time his attic face reveal.“Like when you first started courting me, huh?” you teased, knowing that Hector was actually a sucker for the concept. The man was nothing if not a romantic. 

“The very same,” Hector said, and you could hear the smile of his own underneath the words. His hand pushed you gently back a step, and when you were met by a solid warmth against your shoulders, your brain stuttered to realize he’d taken off his insulating coat. His bare chest was against your skin, and you could feel the coarse hair that covered it, along with the soft stomach now pressing into your lower back. The heat at your center threatened to overwhelm you, so strong was your desire to turn and slide your hands down his torso, to explore what he'd never shown you. 

He pressed against you, his breath ghosting over the back of your neck before he lowered his lips to your exposed skin.

Your breath hitched, and your head fell backwards, until you were resting it against what you realized was his shoulder. You made a sound of want through your bitten lip as Hector kissed your own shoulder around the strap of your pajama top, then moved towards the juncture of your neck. 

“I l-like your real voice, though,” you managed, your hands clenching and unclenching in thin air as he kissed up the column of your throat. “It’s so quintessentially you. And I love you.”

Hector hummed softly against your skin before licking a small expanse up the side of your neck, his scalding tongue causing you to gasp before you could catch yourself. “I love you too,” he said simply, a slight note of smugness creeping in. "And I also adore the face you make when I play to your voice kink." He kitten-licked the shell of your ear. "So if I'm going to satisfy you, I'm going to do it completely." 

And before you could disagree, his splayed fingers were pushing the thin strap off your shoulder entirely.

The thin top fell away with no resistance, Hector tugging lightly so the fabric slid past your hips and landed on the floor. You were now also topless, and just as you moved reflexively to cover your chest, Hector’s free arm gently bumped yours away.

“No, no,” he murmured. “I want a good look at you, my beauty. I’ve only been…” He pressed a kiss to your other bare shoulder now, his stubble rasping across your skin. “Aching for you like this, since I first set eyes on you. You must understand.”

So you curled your fingers into your palms, your thumbs rubbing a knuckle on each hand as you made yourself stand still.

It had been more than a small shock whenever the Dateviators revealed a not-small contingent of beings who found you desirable in your own skin. You were so used to being... well, yourself, that you had an admittedly difficult time seeing what they found attractive in you. Real beauties like Amir, Volt, and Betty left you feeling a bit lost with their kind words, their flirting. You couldn't help but feel underwhelming despite their lingering looks.

Hector's desire for you had been another kind of unexpected entirely; his devotion, his hunger from afar -- while you couldn't understand it directed at you, per se, you definitely were more familiar with this model on your end than anything else. The two of you spoke the same language of the heart. So if it pleased him to have you like this, you were more than happy to let him take his time with you, white-knuckling through your own self-consciousness to let him soak you in.

You felt Hector’s hands settle on each of your shoulders before they traced down your full arms, then over your chest with a tender slowness. You felt his breath on the back of your neck catch and stutter as his hands lingered over your sides, before sliding down onto your hips with what could only be described as reverence.

“God,” he half-whispered, half groaned, and it sounded agonized. “God, you are so… unspeakably soft.” His fingers ran up and down your sides before settling on your hips again, where he couldn’t resist squeezing the plush flesh there. “This is heaven beyond my wildest imagination, my heart, you have no idea.”

You couldn't help a little helpless laughter as his touch ran over the ticklish parts of your stomach, and you flexed your back against his chest, leaning further into him. You lifted a hand to his jaw, and turned your head to kiss him there. "And when do I get to take you in, hm?" 

Hector's hands ghosted over the sides of your breasts, and then for a moment cupped their considerable weight in his hands with a soft moan. When his thumbs ghosted over your nipples, you shivered, biting back a whimper -- while the area normally wasn't your favorite, due to the dysphoria it sometimes inspired, his touch here was so careful, you found yourself able to relax into it. Even more so when he laid his arm across them to put a comforting pressure there, a warm echo of your compression tops. 

You hummed gratefully, leaning as best you could to kiss his soft bicep.

He returned it with a kiss to the side of your neck. "I have you," he said, his lips against your skin still. "I promise."

You couldn't help but smile, resting your head back against his shoulder again. "I know." You kissed his jaw again, one of your favorite parts of him in its softness. "I trust you."

The way his breath shuddered slightly against your neck at this was heart-wrenchingly adorable.

He angled his hand back to your breastbone to pull you more firmly back against him, and you could feel his heart hammering through his chest against your shoulder blade. His breath was bordering on ragged as one hand caressed your lush stomach while the other held you fast.

“You’re so warm” he moaned, and his hand slid lower, thick fingers brushing the waistband of your flimsy cotton shorts. “You’re like the sun on my fingertips, love, you’re celestial.”

Your arms came up to wrap around the one holding you to him, hugging him as best you could and leaning fully into him. “Hector, you’re gonna kill me with anticipation,” you mumbled, your skin screaming to be touched everywhere at once. “At least let me kiss you, or someth—”

Your words were lost amidst the blood rushing to your face as Hector hooked his thumb in the side of your shorts and yanked brusquely downwards, letting them also settle on the floor. You were all too aware you were now fully naked, pinned against him and fully at his mercy.

“Allow me this, please.” His lips were against your ear before he kissed your cheek, then lower down your neck again. “I swear to you, all I want to do is please you… let me at least worship at the altar I’ve admired for so long.”

His hand slid up from your chest to cover your throat, and his kiss to your shoulder became a sharp bite. Your inhale hissed through your teeth, your back arching against his grip.

“All I want is to make you come,” he said, his longing strangling his voice. His other hand slid down your stomach and towards your cunt, stopping short enough to make you squirm in search of any sort of contact. “And come, and come, until you’re a mess in my arms. To fulfill you so completely, you’re too wrecked to find the words to ask for more.” He angled your head to press a searing, messy kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Tell me I can, love, and I will.”

“Please.” If you were still in your right mind, you’d be embarrassed at how quickly you said it, or how you practically whined for it. “Please, Hector, I’ll beg if you want me to, I’ll—”

Two of Hector’s thick fingers slid into your slick folds, and you spasmed against him as they barely brushed your swollen clit.

“Fuck.” Hector’s teeth were gritted, and you felt his hips buck sharply against your ass. The thermostat belt buckle threatened to bruise your back, and you felt something achingly hard through the fabric of his pants, pressing into the soft squish of your flesh. You pushed back against it, and the hand over your throat tightened ever so slightly, as if to hold you still.

“You’re so wet.” Hector’s moan threatened to crack through his Vent Voice entirely, and his fingers traced your slit with an ease that made the heat in your face spread down to your chest. “Fuck, you’re already soaking wet, love, what—”

“What can I say?” You turned your head against his shoulder to face him as best you could. “Your work—” You choked for a moment as his fingers brushed your clit again, the sound desperate and shaking. “I-inspired me.”

Hector’s mouth was hot and greedy and open when he kissed you in response, as the rough pads of his fingers began circling your clit in a way that made you gasp helplessly. “Be careful,” he warned, pulling away from you just enough to speak. “It’ll go straight to my head if you tell me that. That I could possibly have this effect on you, my angel.”

“This is all you,” you said against his lips. “This is what you do to me, I swear.”

You felt his breath shake as he inhaled, his heart threatening to pound through his chest and into yours as he kissed you again. Christ, he’d only just started and you were already overwhelmed, between his tongue demanding in your mouth and the careful hand on your throat keeping you prone and exactly where he wanted you, your hips twitching and flexing into his hand. 

When your legs began to shake, he broke the kiss to only to hiss a single word as he pushed you lightly against your bed frame: “Kneel.”

You complied, realizing he’d lined you up perfectly with the end of your bed as you sank onto your knees on your mattress. Now with no fear of your legs giving out, you let Hector support your back against his chest, your breath already turning to short, desperate pants as he worked the most sensitive part of you.

Hector was murmuring feverishly into your hair when he wasn’t kissing you everywhere he could reach. “Yes, love, you’re doing so well for me, that’s perfect, you’re perfect, just let me— let me take care of you, please, let me make you feel a tenth of what I feel for you, even that.” His smooth facade was chipping away, sounding like he was just as desperate as you were as the coil of white-hot want at your center twisted tighter and tighter. While he fought to keep his voice steady, the moans that escaped him when you gasped and arched back against him sounded more like the him you knew outside the vent.

You grabbed at the hand at your throat, intertwining your fingers tightly with his. “Please don’t stop, please don’t stop Hector, please—”

“Let go, love, I have you,” Hector rasped, the voice back in place. “Come for me, show me how you feel, please.”

You came with a shudder and an embarrassingly loud groan from deep in your chest, shaking against Hector’s torso as you ground your hips down onto his fingers without an ounce of shame. Though you couldn’t see them, your were certain your thighs were already glistening, and this was only one orgasm in.

Hector squeezed the sides of your throat with a fraction more pressure as you writhed, and you could feel him pressing his clothed erection against your ass, perhaps without even realizing it. 

Before you could catch your breath or even come down, Hector spun you lightly by your shoulders and barely nudged you backwards. Your lack of equilibrium and the fact that you felt weightless meant this left you sprawled out on your back, on top of your covers.

“What—” You started to sit up, confused, before Hector’s hand rested firmly over your stomach.

“Stay there,” he said, and the relative curtness of it compared to his usual eloquence made your thighs twitch all the harder.

You heard more fabric rustling, and the thud of something metal and heavy hitting the ground — his belt, you realized, and you parted your thighs before you fully realized what you were doing.

Hector chuckled shakily. “Oh, amor. Don’t tempt me before the second course.” He leaned down, tilting your chin with a finger to kiss you as you dazedly looked up.

 You heard him drop to the floor, muttering to himself so quickly you couldn’t catch it, before you heard something clicking closed. He gave a full-throated groan, as though pained, but before you could sit up to check on him, two hands dragged you roughly down your mattress by your thighs.

“Wait, hold on — are you okay?” You reached out blindly until you felt his hand, concerned. “What was that?”

“I’m fine, my love, I promise.” Hector’s free hand swept down your other thigh to soothe you, followed by his lips against your skin and the rasp of his stubble. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just - ah.” Another soft gasp, and a low moan as he adjusted whatever it was. “Something to help me not lose myself with you entirely. Not until the proper time.”

Before you could try to puzzle out what that meant, you felt his hands squeeze your thighs, before manipulating each one onto one of his shoulders.

“You have no idea,” he said, tracing a gossamer finger across their sensitive inner flesh. “No earthly idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He traced the inside of your thigh towards your cunt with the tip of his nose, occasionally pausing to sample now and then with a nipping kiss you knew would leave a small bruise, causing you to whimper at each. “How often I gazed down on you on this very bed, watching you alone, aching to touch you. I would’ve traded the rest of my life just to taste you.” 

You could feel his breath on the mess he’d left with just his fingers, seeming to drink you in before he pressed a delicate kiss to either side of your slit. He lingered there, and you could feel him panting lightly as his nose pressed into your pubic hair, until he groaned with unfiltered need.

“You’re divine,” he whispered, and before you could respond, the scalding flat of his tongue parted your lips.

“Fuck!” You arched your back against your mattress, your hands jumping to anchor in your lover’s dark, curly hair. “Fuck, Hector, oh my god—” But he was merciless against your still-sensitive clit, and when you tugged his hair without realizing, his resulting moan made you dizzy and light-headed. 

For all his beautiful words, Hector’s tongue was a menace in its own right. He ate you out like a man possessed, his fingers tight enough to bruise on your plush thighs as his tongue circled the innermost part of you, his nose nudging your clit in a way that made your hips buck against his face. But this only seemed to spur him on, his hands moving to pin you down as he devoured you with zeal.

Your hips trapped in his surprisingly strong grip, you moaned in frustration, and when he echoed you, it seemed to vibrate through your core. “Hector, it’s too much,” you begged, and tears threatened at the corner of my eyes. “I can’t, I can’t—”

But Hector only shook his head, his tongue moving in a way that sent sparks racing through your veins. Whereas all this time he’d been sitting off your bed, he only broke your connection to climb up onto your mattress, shifting your thighs on his shoulders before he sank his tongue into you. His ferocity left you keening raggedly, short of breath and desperate.

You gave up trying to resist, grinding yourself against Hector’s face, and as you did so, you felt the motion echoed further down your bed. It took a minute to orientate his relative position, but when you did, you realized with a jolt of heat that Hector must have been grinding into your mattress. The idea of his cock already leaking just from going down on you left you clenching with want around air, and Hector made a sound like a whine in response, shoving the flat of his tongue against your clit in a way that set your veins ablaze. He brought two fingers to your hole, sliding them inside with so little effort that you nearly started to cry, your face impossibly warm. He was utterly ruining you, and with frightening efficiency.

After a few minutes of slowly, steadily fucking you on them, he unexpectedly curled them inside you. You let out something close to a wail, throwing your head back against the sheets.

Your nails scraped his scalp, and his chin and stubble were absolutely soaked against your thighs. He only lifted his tongue from you to pant for a second, before rasping brokenly:

“Come on my face. Comeonmyface, amor, I’m begging, bless me with even that—”

This crack in his control, combined with the last crook of his fingers inside you, left you powerless. You came again, messily, nearly sobbing his name.

True to his word, he groaned as you ground your cunt against his tongue, holding completely still so you could use him as you wished. Your face absolutely seared at just how much your cunt was drooling into his mouth, tears creeping out from under your blindfold from both embarrassment and raw want. when you finally fell limp against the mattress, he laid wet kisses along your lower abdomen, whispering praises against your skin as he stroked your twitching thighs.

You could swear your ears were ringing and your skin was on fire. If you took off the blindfold now, you might still be seeing black, your vision a hazy swirl as your brain tried to figure out which way was up. 

“Oh my fucking god,” you mumbled, your voice shot.

“You’re one to talk of holiness,” Hector mumbled back, and you felt him rest his chin on one of your thighs. You could hear him sucking clean the fingers he’d fucked you with, like he hadn’t just had you coming all over his tongue. “You’re a sight, mi vida. You’ve never been more beautiful. If I died tomorrow, I would die utterly content.”

“…How the fuck,” you managed. “Are you still so…” You gestured uselessly, struggling for words. “…Together, right now?”

Hector let out an amused huff of air through his nose. “You can’t see me,” he said, and in that moment, you could hear just how strained his Vent Voice was. “If you could, you’d know how paper-thin my composure really is. How much you’ve already shattered me.”

“But I haven’t even gotten to touch you yet, you’re the one fucking me,” you protested weakly. “And fucking me... really, really well, actually. Like. Oh my god, Hector, your writing was one thing, but this—”

Hector pressed a finger to your lips, shushing you gently. “Don’t let me get cocky,” he said, and you could hear the pleased grin in his tone. “Not when I haven’t ravished you fully, yet. Not to my standards.”

Your lips started to form a question, but he seized your hips in his broad hands, pulling you further down the mattress again until you were flush with—

Your face felt like it was burning, realizing he was kneeling between your spread legs, his flesh impossibly warm against your own.

“I can’t,” you mumbled, hiding your face in your hands. “I’m already wrecked. I’ve got nothing left, Hector, I'm —”

Hector was crooning soft assurances as he delicately pulled your hands apart with his own, and you felt your fingers interlacing with his. He kissed each of your cheeks, the tip of his tongue tracing the salt that was surely leaking from under the blindfold by now. “Once more,” he murmured. He pressed each of the backs of your hands to his lips in turn, before stretching them over your head and pinning them to the mattress. “Once more, my heart, my darling, trust me just that much longer."

Slowly, you felt something pressing against your folds, and before you could register fully what it was, something hard and hot dragged itself against your slit. You exhaled raggedly, what little oxygen had returned to your brain leaving immediately.

"Let me fuck you, love,” Hector whispered, grinding his cock along your soaking wet cunt. "Like you deserve. Like I've wanted to since I first set eyes on you." He was already panting, his breath only getting shallower as he lost himself rutting against you. "...Oh, god." His voice echoed off your ceiling, near feverish and cracking through his carefully constructed tone. He continued like this for a minute, and you could feel his stomach moving against yours, the course hair at his base growing wetter --

Until something unexpectedly smooth and steel nudging your clit made you gasp, then thrash in his grip. "What… is that?"

Hector froze for a second, and it was obvious both of you were having problems with the powers of speech. "...Something to keep me ready for you," he said, though the Vent Voice unsteady. "So I can be what you need, when you need it. So I don't - ah," he whined, mindlessly grinding against you again. "Lose myself, as soon as I'm inside you."

You shuddered at the electric contact, his dick sliding through your folds, the metal catching lightly against your clit again in a way that made your hips buck. 

"...Is that a cock ring?" you asked, at last putting two and two together in your haze.

Hector's hips faltered again, and you could tell he was struggling to proceed. "Uh. ...Yes?" he said, his true voice back and uncertain. "Is... is that okay?"

Jesus, this man.

You strained against his grip, leaning up, desperate to kiss him. "Hector, oh my god," you said, your fingers squeezing his palms when you couldn't quite manage it. "You're going to kill me, you really are. Please, please, let me touch you."

Hector laughed softly, the relief evident, and he squeezed your hands back before he brought his lips to yours. "Not yet," he murmured in the Voice again, kissing the corners of your mouth and down your throat. "Not yet, lover, this is still just about you."

"Hector," you whined, petulantly writhing against your mattress. "It's not fair! I want to see you, I want to feel you, I--"

That last thought was interrupted by something thick sliding into you, the heat and the unexpected fullness causing your sentence to die on your lips.

“You were saying?" Hector was teasing, his thrusts slow and languid, and your jaw dropped as your brain went utterly blank. The feeling of him inside you was electric, his shaft dragging along your walls, his stomach warm and soft against yours as he fucked into you. The wiry hair on his body felt like static against your skin, and you pushed your hips desperately back against his.

"More," you moaned, the one word left in your brain. 

Hector inhaled sharply through his teeth, and he finally let go of your hands, grabbing instead once more onto your thighs. "Of course," he said. "Of course, my darling, anything you ask." 

He pulled you towards him so your hips were flush together, bottoming out in you with a strangled, desperate sound. Whereas before his pace had been sensual, lingering, his thrusts now were sharp and precise. He kept a punishing grip on your hips, and with your hands now free, you reached up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down so your chests were pressed together.

Hector groaned but adjusted the angle of his hips to compensate, and he took the new proximity to leave soft, longing bites along your clavicle, like he was restraining himself from devouring you even now. You, meanwhile, were shamelessly chasing your third orgasm, your hands moving with minds of their own -- squeezing his soft upper arms, clinging to his shoulders, anywhere you could try to find an anchor point.

"Hector." You were starved for air, your moans short and breathless. Everything felt siphoned by the muscles tensing again in your abdomen, the ache at the center of you that only resolved when he bottomed out. "I love you, I love you fucking me, please don't stop--"

"As long as you want." There was no room between the two of you, and his mouth was everywhere -- leaving bruising kisses on your neck, laving at the junction of your shoulder. "Until the breath leaves my body, I'm yours to use." He buried his face against your neck, a broken breath shuddering against your skin. "Whatever you need, I'll give you all of me."

You got your arms around his chest, and when you raked your nails down his back, he let out a guttural sound of pure want, his breath hot in your ear. 

You had no filter left between your mouth and your brain. "I want to come on your cock," you managed, and you heard him outright whine, felt him spasm inside you. "Please, Hector, I want to, please?"

"You will," he groaned, and his grip was iron as he pulled one of your thighs up along the curve of his hip. "I have you, amor, you will."

The room was already filled with the obscene sounds of his skin on yours, but for a second, it was punctuated by the staccato of your headboard hitting the wall. The knowledge that this was caused by your shy, nervous sweetheart pulled the coil of want at the center of you all the tighter, and your hips met his, greedy and seeking.

Between the metal of the ring against your aching clit and Hector's borderline punishing tempo, your unraveling wasn't long. You felt the pressure of his stomach against yours, felt it tensing, heard his own desperate moan -- only to remember that he was denying himself his own orgasm in pursuit of yours, near-punishing himself until he could give you everything you wanted.

This made you finally break for a third time, you felt your release hot and wet down your own thighs, borderline screaming Hector's name to the ceiling before he muffled you with his tongue in your mouth. He kept fucking you through your aftershocks, but slower now, sweeter. You were gasping into each other's mouths, you outright shaking, Hector running his hands soothingly up and down your sides and whispering to you between kisses to your face and forehead.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." His words were rapid, feverish as his forehead pressed against yours. "I love you, angel, divine, whatever soul I have belongs to you."

You couldn't speak yet, but your nails hooked into his shoulders, desperate for anything to ground you. You could hear him hiss sharply at the feeling, but he kissed you heatedly, coaxing your mouth open as you caught your breath.

For a long few minutes, the two of you just lay there, him still inside you, unwilling to give up contract with the other's skin. His kisses were soft across your face and chest with whispered, effusive praise, but you kept steering him back to your lips, wanting him to feel firsthand how much you adored him.

As soon as you were capable of speech again, you let him know. "I'm in love with you," you managed, punctuating this with a gentle bite to his lower lip. "I love you so much, Hector, tell me you know that."

"Yes," he sighed, and you could feel him smiling as he kissed you back. "I am no less thunderstruck to be loved by the object of my every thought, but I know." He kissed each of your cheeks in turn, the corners of your mouth, and his arms caged your waist. "Are you satisfied, mi vida?" You could hear the pride in his voice, like he couldn't tell by taking in how you were only just catching your breath, your hair clinging to your skin with sweat.

"Mm." You smiled against his mouth as you crushed it in a kiss. "...Not quite, my love."

The sound he made in response would've made you giggle, were you not so committed to your bit. It reminded you of the time you asked him for a photo; a mix of confusion and mild shock. “…No?” he managed at last, the Vent Voice finally falling away entirely.

Grinning, you reached up and lifted the blindfold from your blisteringly warm face. "I want my turn, Hector."

His expression was adorable, flushed and perplexed, his hair clinging to his damp forehead. He stared at you, his mouth once again left scrambling to form words. He had no time to prepare before you pushed upwards against his chest, maneuvering your weight so he was abruptly underneath you.

Before he could get his bearings, you grabbed both his wrists, pinning them to the pillow above his head. The noise he made was an exhale of confusion laced with something close to a whimper, and you sat back as much as you could, taking in your prize. "Is this okay?"

Hector's flush extended down his chest and shoulders, his hair a mess against the pillow. He glistened slightly with a soft sheen of sweat from his earlier efforts, and his pupils were still blown wide, threatening to eclipse the dark iris you adored. For a solid minute, he merely gazed up at you like you were something holy, still at a loss for words.

"...Hector," you cooed, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. "I need a verbal answer. Is it okay if I hold you like this?" You jerked your chin towards where you still held his wrists, your grip lighter now in case he needed to get out.

"Yes," he breathed, and you could swear his pupils somehow widened further. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple moving in his throat. "Yes, my love, anything you want--"

“Not the answer I need,” you cut him off softly but firmly, shaking your head. “I want to make this about you now, darling.” You released his wrists and shifted your hips so you were finally two separate beings again, and he actually whimpered at the loss of contact. 

Moving to sit just to his side, you exhaled, feeling the new emptiness inside you again. He didn’t move an inch, following you with wide eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile at him watching you like that, tilting your head to finally take him all in. Your eyes traveled down his broad torso, the arms that had held you through feeling like you would shatter completely, the adorable stomach with the trail of dark hair that you wanted to kiss and nip all the way down to…

The glint of the modified metal wrapped at the base of his cock, which was still laying achingly erect and flush against said stomach.

The air left your lungs all at once, a sharp spark of need causing your still-sensitive clit to positively throb. You turned back to meet his eyes, only to see him still watching you like an especially anxious hawk, trying to read your reaction from your face.

You blinked, remembering that yes, this was actually the first time the two of you had been this… vulnerable, around one another.  “Can I touch you?” you asked quietly, looking shyly from him to the metal and back. “Is that okay?” You had lost all concept of subtle, only half-aware of how you were biting your lip in your eagerness.

The tension in Hector’s shoulders seemed to ease, as if relieved, but the flush across his cheeks and down to his chest renewed. “I… if you want to.” He nodded, shifting slightly where he was laying, like he was suddenly all too aware of your gaze. 

You laughed a little, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Of course I want to. I’m more concerned about if you want me to.” You moved to kiss the other corner, one hand going to his chest to push him back to the mattress when he tried to meet you halfway. When you had him pinned again, you angled your head so you were looking down into his eyes. “You took care of me, love, and in spades. Now I want to take care of you.” You thought for a moment, trying to figure out just how to frame this — he was nothing if not selfless, and he wasn’t always the best at knowing quite what he wanted at turn. “ And I want you to tell me how to do it properly.” You stroked his hair, watching him swallow thickly.  “Can you do that for me, Hector, please?”

“Please touch me,” he said without hesitation, his voice now fully back to its usual pitch and already a bit shaky.

You beamed. “Excellent start.” You leaned down, kissing him fully again. “Thank you.” 

You went to move, but paused halfway, looking back to where he was now sitting up slightly to watch you. “…Tell me something—” you began.

“Anything,” he said immediately, nodding just a little in his eagerness.

You couldn’t help a giggle, reaching over to stroke his hair. “You’re so cute.” Off his responding small smile, you turned back to face him fully, supporting yourself over him so he had to lean back to look into your eyes. “I was going to ask,” you went on. “Did you like it when I had your wrists pinned earlier? Or do you want to be able to move?”

Hector bit his own lip as he gazed up at you, and you could see him weighing his options. “…I love touching you, amor, you know that,” he said at last. “But that was… new.” There was a hopeful note at the end of the sentence, a curiosity there. 

“Okay, I can work with that.” You nodded, holding eye contact until the poor man’s flush revived itself, and he looked shyly away. “You know, I have wondered…” 

His eyes were partially eclipsed by his hair, now; the visible one looked your way again. “Wondered, amor?”

You moved all at once, straddling his thighs, and noticing just how his mouth fell open as you did so. “Do you remember, love, when you told me you can’t relax for yourself?”

“…Somewhat,” Hector said, clearly distracted as he looked between your eyes and where your thighs were back in contact with his skin again.

You took his wrists in your hands, moving them so they were back on the pillow above his head. “Do you need to be made to relax, do you think?”

Hector’s eyes went impossibly wider, something in your phrasing clearly clicking for him. “…Define ‘made.’” His voice was cautious, but the subconscious way he licked his lips gave him away.

You felt yourself mirror the gesture, a lascivious smile spreading. “Like we agreed to earlier,” you reminded him. “My turn will be me asking what you want, and giving it to you until you can’t take it anymore.” You squeezed his wrists gently.

His fists clenched in response. “I think we - phrased that differently,” he said, his breathing starting to shallow out.

“But do you object to my phrasing now?” You raised an eyebrow, both teasing and challenging.

“Not in the least,” he said, so quickly it was cute.

You giggled. “Then do me a favor,” you said, lifting your hands off his wrists. “And keep those right where I left them, or I stop. Agreed?”

“Yes.” Hector nodded, then paused. “…With one addendum.”

“Oh?” You sat back, curious.

“Don’t — don’t blindfold me.” Hector’s eyes roved over you, his gaze so hungry it felt like a caress. “Let me see you. Let me at least have that.”

Your face felt hot again with how unabashed he was, but you played to it, holding eye contact as you leaned forward again across his torso. You carefully avoided any skin contact with his neglected cock, instead placing your hands over Hector’s chest. “Whatever you want, love.” You only looked down to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his bare clavicle.

Hector’s hands moved off the pillow as he made a soft sound of longing, but you sat up, giving them a sharp look.

He froze, to his credit, and tamely let them fall back against the fabric. When you returned to kissing your way up his neck, he groaned in frustration, and you could hear them moving on the pillowcase. “I - I might have not thought that through,” he admitted, already breathless.

“No?” You laved the sweat from his skin, enjoying the salt before you left a bite sure to bruise — one that mirrored a similar mark he’d left on your own shoulder. 

Hector hissed through his teeth. “No,” he agreed. “How could I not want to touch you?”

“But look, darling.”  You sat up, shaking your hair away from your face, then shrugging your marked shoulder. “We’ll match now.”

Hector’s cock visibly throbbed, his eyes infinitely black as he looked between the two with utter reverence, like he was seriously considering getting his tattooed on him. 

You took your time kissing your way down his chest, lingering to kitten-lick the nipples that had been hiding under the metal of his coat. He positively writhed at this, turning his hands back on the pillow to grip it in frustration. You watched him bite his lip until you feared blood, the small noises he failed to muffle speaking to just how it likely wouldn’t take much to wreck him at all…

Unless.

You pondered something as you kissed down his soft stomach, caressing his sides, making a point to lick a hot stripe through the trail that led down, down…

“I love this,” you mumbled, pausing to run your nails lightly down the skin of his stomach. Hector gasped, squirming underneath your hands, and you drank in the sight. “You’re so soft, Hector, but so solid. You make me feel safe, supported, always.” You leaned down, licking another stripe where his stomach met his hip, only just managing to hold him down when he bucked against the feeling. “And when I felt you against me, pushing into me, putting me exactly where you needed to to make me lose my mind…” 

You angled where you were leaning to grind your cunt along one of his hips, and Hector moaned in agony, his head falling back into the pillow and his hands twisting on the cloth of the case. 

“I know you’re too much of a lover, darling,” you said, licking a nipple again to watch his chest rise and fall raggedly. “But I did think about how you could easily have me any way you wanted, all for your own pleasure.” You grinned, watching that ragged breathing stutter, the way his jaw dropped soundlessly at the idea. 

“Blasphemy.” Hector’s eyes were wild, and he had to physically grab one of his wrists with his other hand to keep them both down. “You’re divine to me, I could never— I wouldn’t dare—”

“But what if I asked you to?” You sat back on your knees, drawing a line down the inside of one of his thighs with a nail to watch it twitch and shake. You weren’t sure if the whine was from the contact, or from the idea of using you. When you met his eyes again, he looked on the verge of pain. “It’s not like I’m not all yours, anyway.”

You watched his eyes, already overly bright with how you were torturing him, as you calmly positioned yourself next to his twitching cock, still trapped in the ring. 

“Am I correct,” you said slowly. “That you can’t come until this is off?” You merely tapped a nail on the steel, and his hips bucked sharply upwards.

“Y-yes,” he managed, his voice already shredded with want.

You pursed your lips, considering this. “Duly noted.” You looked back up at him. “Spread your legs for me?”

He did so with such alacrity, your heart ached.

You settled yourself between them, making a show of reaching to your still-drooling cunt to gather the slick there onto your fingers — his breathless whimper making you crack and smile after all. You took your time taking in his cock, wretchedly hard with neglect, still thick from where he’d made you come so hard you’d cried. The pre was practically dripping off the tip, and when you took it in hand at last, you felt it flex against your palm as Hector groaned from the depths of his chest.

You pumped your hand over the shaft with a slowness that made Hector throw his head back in frustration, his hips desperately trying to meet your palm.

“Easy there, love,” you soothed. When your hand was near the head, you spread the pre over his slit with your thumb, and he was already making a sound akin to a sob. “I have you now. I promise.”

“I love you,” Hector managed brokenly, his eyes squeezed shut from overwhelm. “I love you, please, please keep touching me—”

You leaned forward while he wasn’t looking, and when you took the head alone in your mouth, Hector had to visibly fight not to thrust into it. You teased him, swirling your tongue around the glans as you continued to pump the shaft, watching his breathing shallow out and his knuckles nearly turn white on his wrist. As you took more, your tongue tracing the hot vein along the underside, Hector’s back arched as he fought not to make you gag.

You let go with a soft ‘pop’ of suction, another strand of saliva linking your mouth to his skin. “Hector,” you said, your voice soft and innocent. “I want you to look at me.”

Hector complied immediately, sitting up just enough to see you —

As you took the most of him into your mouth yet, your other hand coming up to cup his balls as you did so. 

You could feel him throbbing in your mouth as he moaned in utter agony, his abdomen tensing, his balls tightening against your palm. “Mi vida, amor, please, please please I’m begging you, gorgeous creature, mercy—”

You took him as deep as you could, your nose brushing the dark, coarse hair at the base, and when his reflexes finally won out, you gagged around him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He sounded on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, my love, I didn’t mean—”

But you put a hand on his stomach to soothe him, sitting up to breathe. “I’m fine,” you managed. “I wanted to gag on you, it’s okay.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Hector mumbled, eyes glazed and hazy from lust, tears at the corners to match those in yours. “I’m going to die right here in your bed, at this rate.”

“Tell me where you want to come first,” you said, back to pumping him as you waited for your throat to relax again. 

Hector blinked, and for a moment you thought you’d finally broken him. “What?”

“My mouth?” You prompted. “My chest? My stomach?”

Hector’s hands were twisted into your sheets, but you didn’t want to wreck your momentum by punishing him appropriately. “I…” He struggled for words, before finally admitting in a cracked whisper, “Inside you.” He swallowed hard. “Please. I have to be inside you, now, or I’ll lose what’s left of my mind.”

You laughed as much as you could manage with a slightly sore throat, charmed. “Of course, love. Just— give me a moment.”

You doubled back to plant kisses up the insides of his thighs, nipping the inside of the left so gently, he fully whined above you. When you let yourself take his balls in your mouth, appreciating just how swollen they were, you felt him clawing at your blankets, speaking too fast for you to quite make out what he was saying besides the fact that it sounded like a prayer.

After a few more agonizing moments, you straddled his hips, his cock resting just against your cunt. You let it drool onto his skin, his hips bucking and twitching underneath you, him fully babbling at this point.

“My love, my angel, please, please oh god I can’t take this please—”

“Come here,” you murmured, and he sat up like a man reanimated, his hands flying to your torso to run over as much of your skin as he could reach.

You met his lips with yours, exploring his mouth as you rocked your hips so your clit caught one last time on the metal ring. Hector’s hips jerked back, tears escaping from his lashline down his cheeks at the friction.

When at last you slid onto him, Hector hid his face in your shoulder, panting openly against your skin. You rolled your hips together, and he met yours eagerly, his nails digging into your back in turn.

You stayed there for a few minute, feeling him spasm inside you as you moved, him clinging to you like he never wanted to be apart from you again.

“I love you, Hector,” you whispered, your lips against his ear as you reached between the two of you two find the place where the ring came apart —

And as soon as you’d gotten it loose, Hector came with a broken sob of your name, the heat of his release molten inside you.

You rode him through it, feeling it easily overflowing you so it dripped down your thighs, mixing with your own orgasm from earlier. Your skin felt impossibly hot, Hector crushing you against his torso as the two of you moved, and the slick sounds between the two of you were utterly obscene.

You kept riding him until at last he was totally spent, the two of you collapsing in a sweaty tangle to your mattress.

Hector’s lips were on yours, on your face, along your hairline. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice still broken.

You were still trying to catch your breath, but you kissed him back. “So you enjoyed yourself, then?” you teased.

“You exceeded my every desire,” Hector said, fully earnest, and the sweetness of it made you lose your breath all over again. “I’m never letting you go, I hope you understand that. I can’t bear to, not now.”

“Not even to put clothes on?” you joked, resting your glistening forehead against his.

“Especially not that,” Hector grinned. “We’ll simply resign ourselves to be here, forever.”

“No more vents for you?” You grinned back, but there was hope underneath the words.

“I live in your bed now.” He kissed your cheek, beaming at you. “Betty will just have to understand. It simply cannot be helped.”

You actually giggled, hugging him tightly and rolling so you were laying on his chest.

The two of you stayed that way for a while in sweet, fulfilled silence, the room filling with the warm honey of the golden hour through your window.

You rolled onto your side to admire him in the light, gazing as though you wanted to memorize every inch of him — which you did. “…You’re really hot when you’ve just finished wrecking me, you know that?” You reached up, gently stroking some of his hair away from his face, then tracing his cheek with a fingertip. 

His eyes immediately looked down, away, back up to the safety of his vent — anywhere but at you. “Don’t tease,” he mumbled. His whole demeanor changed from the afterglow of a moment ago, and he finally went to pull his arms in to cover his soft torso.

“Hey.” You bumped his arms away as he had yours earlier, moving on the mattress so you were chest to chest again. You kissed him earnestly, hoping to soothe the anxiety you could see gathering like a storm at his brow. “I’m not teasing,” you said, pulling away just enough to speak while looking him in the eye. “I think you’re hot, and I’m madly in love with you.”

Hector rolled his eyes ever so slightly, even as a smile tugged begrudgingly at his lips. “Amor. You don’t…” He trailed off, lips pressed together as he chose his words. “Have to… tell me that.” He nodded slightly, trying to keep the smile on. “It’s really okay.”

“Hector, forgive my arguing, love — but you literally just made me scream your name,” you said bluntly. You set a fingertip on his chest, making a point. “Nobody else has ever actually achieved that.”

His face flushed furiously again, and for an instant, the smile became more solid. Real. With just a hint of the pride you knew was in there somewhere.

“Have they?” you pressed, raising an eyebrow. “You would know,” you added quietly. “I know now you watched me with others.”

Hector made a quiet sound of discontent, any confidence disappearing as he looked away. “I’m sorry, I know I—”

“Don’t apologize. I’m into that too,” you said quietly, a sly smile creeping in. “I consider it part of your… unique form of dedication.” You drew a line with your nail up to his jaw, tracing his lower lip. “But you’re still not answering my question, love.” You tilted your head to catch his eye. “It’s only you, isn’t it?”

“…You deserve that and more,” he said at last, eventually looking up at you through his lashes. “I’m only lucky it was me who had the honor.”

“But why can’t I be lucky to have it be you?” you asked plaintively. When he didn’t answer right away, you sat up to put a little space between the two of you, realizing something. “…Do you not believe me, when I say I’m in love with you?”

“No,” he said immediately, and his hand gently caught on to your upper arm, keeping you anchored to him. “No, my love, I do.”

“Really?” You were watching his face now, searching for a telltale sign in his eyes, in the way his mouth moved. The idea that he didn’t believe you filled you with a cold, hollow dread that left you slightly sick. “You’re not just saying that?”

“No!” He caught your other arm as you moved further away, pulling you down to him again. “No, I believe you. I promise,” he pleaded, his eyes wide. “It’s just…” He pressed his mouth into a line, his eyes moving along the ceiling as he tried to find the words yet again. 

“…Am I… doing something to make you think I’m not?” you asked quietly. You swallowed — everything had been so beautiful, until you’d… what? Told him you were attracted to him? You’d just wanted to make him feel as loved as he made you. “…Is it me?”

“No.” Before you could blink, Hector had pulled you flush to his chest again, his eyes holding the same strange brilliance you’d seen upon your first meeting in the dark vent. “Listen to me: I have never loved anyone more than I love you,” he said quickly, nose to nose with you now. “You are my heart made human, you are the anchor of my animus. I’m yours, every part of me.” The light in his eyes changed, pained now. “But it’s me. Do you understand? You are beautiful,” he said, his hands sliding up to squeeze your shoulders. “You are my muse, my light.” He swallowed hard, like there was a lump in his throat. “And the only way I can show you how much I adore you is by giving myself over to you completely, satisfying you so thoroughly that you never have reason to think--” His voice caught, and he broke your gaze. “…To think about how you could do better.”

“What are you talking about?” You shook your head, perplexed. “Hector, I’m just… I’m only me. I’m completely ordinary. You’re the one who could do better, I’m sorry.” You managed a laugh, but it burned your throat. “…And I’m so afraid one day you’re going to realize that, you know?”

He looked up sharply, eyes flashing. “Don’t you ever say that.”

“Hector, listen to me,” you argued, straddling his lap so he couldn’t look away. “You’re literally an artist.” You held up a finger when he opened his mouth to argue, and he closed it again, albeit hesitantly. “Your prose breaks my heart and melts me, all at once. You’re sweet, you’re sensitive, you’re one of the most thoughtful people I’ve ever met — when you first told me how you felt, I could barely breathe,” you confessed, and it was hard to keep your voice steady. “Because I had no idea how I had captured the eye of someone so -  so passionate.” You swallowed, your mouth feeling full of ash. “When I was just… here,” you gestured limply around your empty bedroom. “Alone. Trying to justify what I was doing with my life, what I was thought I could prove to anyone. Trying to convince myself to keep… hell.” You looked away, your eyes stinging for a different reason. “Keep trying at all, I guess.”

You blinked hard. You would not cry and totally ruin this, you would not. 

“…My love?” Hector was all concern, which made it so you couldn’t look at him lest you definitely break. But when his hands slid to your hips, you still set yours on top of his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. He waited then, seemingly content with this sign.

“…And then suddenly, I put on these glasses and realized you were in my vents, of all places,” you said at last, keeping your eyes down. “And you were in love with me, and I didn’t really know what I did to - to earn it. But you made me feel seen in a way that… no one else really had. Ever.” You felt yourself shrug, a wavering smile managing to form on your face. “You make me feel like… whatever force animates the pair of us, whatever stardust we might be made of, ours is the same.  I could… belong here. With you.” You chewed your lower lip, feeling your skin catch fire again.  “And that’s what I’m saying, when I tell you I’m in love with you. ‘Please let me stay here. Please let this be home.’” You forced yourself to take a breath. “‘Please don’t think about it and realize otherwise.’”

You were interrupted by Hector suddenly seizing the back of your neck, and pulling you against his bare chest in a crushing hug. His other hand was planted firmly against the center of your spine, and when he buried his nose in your hair, you realized you could feel him shaking against you. His voice threatening to crack, he managed only a single word:

“Never.”

He pulled the pair of you down to the mattress, keeping you tightly curled in his arms, his legs entangling with yours to keep him completely in contact with your skin. You shifted your arms so they encircled his chest, your fingertips lightly tracing the scratches you’d left in his back at the height of your passion.

For a while, the two of you just stayed there, the only sound the other’s breathing and the opening salvo of the crickets outside.

And for a minute, it felt like you were the only two left in a house full of people.

Maybe even in the world.

He was the first to pull back, eyes intense like he was trying to memorize your own. “My love, I’m sorry.” He cupped your cheek in his hand with the utmost softness. “I didn’t intend to make you think I doubted you. The only person I doubt between us is myself;  you have never had to earn my love. You never will. I love all of you, even the parts you don’t — for reasons I cannot begin to fathom, but that’s another talk entirely.” He kissed your forehead, then your lips, before holding your gaze again. “You have the whole of my heart. You have since I first came into your service, you know that. I couldn’t imagine giving it to anyone else — adoring anyone else, the way I do you.”

“Then please trust me,” you said quietly. You reached up to stroke his hair yet again, then trailed your hand down his cheek and to his shoulder. “Please, if you love me as much as you say you do — and I know you do,” you added, off the way his eyes briefly went dark. “Know that it’s reciprocated wholeheartedly. That I love you, and how you love me,” you went on, smiling now. “And I would do anything to make sure you felt it returned just as ardently, because you deserve that and more. I love who you are, exactly as you are.” You kissed his forehead. “You cannot let the version of me in your head be cruel to you. I refuse to allow such heinous falsehoods to leave my lips, even my imaginary ones.”

As Hector listened to this, you noticed his eyes taking on a liquid shine, which he quickly tried to hide by looking down and away. After a long pause, he leaned up to kiss your forehead, then tucked you under his chin and against his chest.

“…You’re going to put my prose to shame if you carry on like that,” he said softly, but you could hear the smile there yet again.

“Yeah, well.” You kissed his chin, his soft jawline, the spot by his ear that made his breath catch. “What can I say? You’ve met your match, Condicionado.”

Hector hugged you even tighter, a blissful sigh ruffling your hair. “Even for as long as I watched you from afar, I had no idea just how well we suit each other.” He traced the bite marks he left in your shoulder with a fingertip, making you shiver pleasantly. 

You paused then, something occurring to you. “…Speaking of which.”

Hector raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Hold on.” You kissed his cheek before you gently removed yourself from his grasp, rolling over to the other side of your bed and reaching behind your nightstand.

You could feel the mattress shift as he sat up slightly, looking over your shoulder. “What do you have there, amor?”

“Okay, so.” You pulled a fairly thick, worn notebook out of a crevice, wiping away a smidge of dust before turning back to him. You hugged it slightly to your chest, feeling a bit… protective, even with him. “It’s not as nicely bound as yours, for one.”

Hector blinked, looking from you to the notebook and back again. “‘Mine?’” He sized it up, a glint of curiosity and hope in his eyes. “…Is that—”

“So after I met Mac,” you explained, unable to meet his eyes for a moment. “And they mentioned they had, uh… read my previous work,” you phrased it carefully. 

“‘Previous work?’” Hector repeated, looking more and more interested by the minute. 

“Well,” you said, shifting in place. “I figured… I didn’t want to take the chance of them discovering this one. Especially since, you know.” You chewed your lip, hoping you didn’t lose your nerve. “They, um. Know you. And all. It just felt… you know, like an invasion of privacy, so I figured I’d, um. Write it by hand. So it’s a little messy—”

“It’s handwritten?” Hector looked positively giddy when he looked back to you. “You wrote? About me?”

“Oh my god, do I write about you,” you muttered, having to look away when your face started to feel hot again. You cleared your throat slightly. “I… tend to use it as a way to work out some of my… more… obsessive feelings, shall we say?” You glanced at him from under your lashes. “So, uh. Just be advised--”

“PleasecanIreadit?” Hector’s tone was indistinguishable from when he’d asked you to come on his face, and his expression just as besotted.

“It gets better as it goes, I swear,” you said, passing the notebook into his eager grasp. “It just took me a minute to figure out just how to write you, after the first day—”

“The first day?” Hector looked up from where he’d immediately opened it. “That soon?”

“…Well, yeah,” you said, like this was obvious. “You were eloquent and mysterious. I was intrigued and… honestly super aroused,” you added in a shy mumble.

“Oh. Well. So that really was mutual.” Hector blushed even as he grinned, and his eyes eagerly fell back to the first page.

After you kissed his cheek again, you slipped to the bathroom to grab something to clean you both off.

A few quiet, content minutes passed as you let the water warm up, you idly running your fingers under the faucet — Winnifred must have been entertaining, so you didn’t mind waiting.

It wasn’t long after before Hector called your name.

“Yeah?” you called back, your mind still in a half-dreamy haze.

“I’m going to need you to get back here,” Hector said, his voice returned to its lower register. “And show me exactly what you mean about — does this say ‘ankles’?”

“…Oh! Yeah. That.” You smiled to yourself at the memory of writing that particular scene, shutting off the sink and heading back to your room with a warm washcloth in tow. “Well, okay, so we’re going to need some ice and a shibari rope for this chapter.”

“This chapter?”

“Yeah, you’ll see what I mean.”

“My god, my love, I hope so.”

I'm hoping I'll write some fluff of him too oh shit and spit kink I forgot that in this one, but. I wrote this when I was on my period and ran out of ice cream, what can I say.

if you read this far, you're an angel~ <3

[haydenthewitch]

Bobby Nash is not dead: my predictions for the rest of the season

the military does not release bobby's body to Athena grant or the 118 because of the deadly super virus and all of that. They bury him in a birch box in an unmarked grave with all of the belongings that he brought into the lab (including his cell phone) becuse 'milatry protocal' or whatever the fuck

We see the LAFD funeral procession and the 118 grieving and dealing with the loss. They put an empty official LAFD coffin in the ground. (WE NEVER SAW PETER IN THE COFFIN OR ON SET IN THE BTS. IT COULD TOTALY WORK)

We hear the 911 sound and Maddie picks up. it's bobby. He's freaking out. She's freaking out. She pings his phone and finds his location/

Maddie breaks protocol and calls Athena. She's on bereavement leave, but the second that she hears that bobby could be alive she grabs her gun and badge in order to go get her husband. She calls buck and the entire 118 and they come too.

Maddie is freaking out because bobby is describing the air getting thin; he's going to suffocate in that box and then it will all be for nothing. She asks if there is any way he can punch trough the flimsy wood. she prepares him by telling him to hold his breath and shield his eyes as much as he can; basically don't drown in dirt.

bobby makes it out alive, punching through the wood and crawling back up to the surface (a-la dean winchester season 4 epi 1) and he RUNS into Athena's arms (NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN. I'LL CRAWL HOME TO HER)

But hayden, i hear you saying. peter krause is leaving the show. how can bobby nash be alive and not the captain of the 118?

after they cure bobby of super killer very bad virus (via Chekov's lab rat) bobby tells Athena that he wants to retire. He gives a whole speech about how every day he puts on the uniform and he accepts that it's possible he's going to die in the field. He walks through fire and prays that he's going to get home to Athena every night. he tells her that in the lab, he wished it didn't have to be that way. now it feels like god has given him his second chance, and he doesn't want to go back to the possibility of dying every shift. He's going to retire, and live a long healthy life with her.

Bobby sits buck down to tell him this news. Buck is at first upset; how will the 118 thrive without their captain? but he quickly accepts and understands that it's not about him, or the 118, it's the one self-interested thing bobby is doing for himself. Bobby always puts everyone else first (including when it came to who lives and who dies) and this he is doing for himself.

Buck makes a joke about 'well i wonder what shmuck they are going to put in your place. big shoes to fill' and bobby says 'oh i wanted to talk to you about that too.' BECUSE THINK ABOUT IT. he looked at buck in his FINAL MOLMENTS and said "they are going to need you, kid." he took the time to encourage buck to LEAD. when bobby nash promotes Buck to captain, everything comes full circle. including that conversation they had about buck eventually being ready to be captain.

IN CONCLUSION, BOBBY NASH ALIVE AND BUCK BUCKLEY CAPTAIN OF THE 118

oh and buddie canon season 9

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The paradox of choice screens

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

It's official: the DOJ has won its case, and Google is a convicted monopolist. Over the next six months, we're gonna move into the "remedy" phase, where we figure out what the court is going to order Google to do to address its illegal monopoly power:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/07/revealed-preferences/#extinguish-v-improve

That's just the beginning, of course. Even if the court orders some big, muscular remedies, we can expect Google to appeal (they've already said they would) and that could drag out the case for years. But that can be a feature, not a bug: a years-long appeal will see Google on its very best behavior, with massive, attendant culture changes inside the company. A Google that's fighting for its life in the appeals court isn't going to be the kind of company that promotes a guy whose strategy for increasing revenue is to make Google Search deliberately worse, so that you will have to do more searches (and see more ads) to get the info you're seeking:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

It's hard to overstate how much good stuff can emerge from a company that's mired itself in antitrust hell with extended appeals. In 1982, IBM wriggled off the antitrust hook after a 12-year fight that completely transformed the company's approach to business. After more than a decade of being micromanaged by lawyers who wanted to be sure that the company didn't screw up its appeal and anger antitrust enforcers, IBM's executives were totally transformed. When the company made its first PC, it decided to use commodity components (meaning anyone could build a similar PC by buying the same parts), and to buy its OS from an outside vendor called Micros-Soft (meaning competing PCs could use the same OS), and it turned a blind eye to the company that cloned the PC ROM, enabling companies like Dell, Compaq and Gateway to enter the market with "PC clones" that cost less and did more than the official IBM PC:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/08/ibm-pc-compatible-how-adversarial-interoperability-saved-pcs-monopolization

The big question, of course, is whether the court will order Google to break up, say, by selling off Android, its ad-tech stack, and Chrome. That's a question I'll address on another day. For today, I want to think about how to de-monopolize browsers, the key portal to the internet. The world has two extremely dominant browsers, Safari and Chrome, and each of them are owned by an operating system vendor that pre-installs their own browser on their devices and pre-selects them as the default.

Defaults matter. That's a huge part of Judge Mehta's finding in the Google case, where the court saw evidence from Google's own internal research suggesting that people rarely change defaults, meaning that whatever the gadget does out of the box it will likely do forever. This puts a lie to Google's longstanding defense of its monopoly power: "choice is just a click away." Sure, it's just a click away – a click, you're pretty sure no one is ever going to make.

This means that any remedy to Google's browser dominance is going to involve a lot of wrangling about defaults. That's not a new wrangle, either. For many years, regulators and tech companies have tinkered with "choice screens" that were nominally designed to encourage users to try out different browsers and brake the inertia of the big two browsers that came bundled with OSes.

These choice screens have a mixed record. Google's 2019 Android setup choice screen for the European Mobile Application Distribution Agreement somehow managed to result in the vast majority of users sticking with Chrome. Microsoft had a similar experience in 2010 with BrowserChoice.eu, its response to the EU's 2000s-era antitrust action:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BrowserChoice.eu

Does this mean that choice screens don't work? Maybe. The idea of choice screens comes to us from the "choice architecture" world of "nudging," a technocratic pseudoscience that grew to prominence by offering the promise that regulators could make big changes without having to do any real regulating:

https://verfassungsblog.de/nudging-after-the-replication-crisis/

Nudge research is mired in the "replication crisis" (where foundational research findings turn out to be nonreplicable, due to bad research methodology, sloppy analysis, etc) and nudge researchers keep getting caught committing academic fraud:

https://www.ft.com/content/846cc7a5-12ee-4a44-830e-11ad00f224f9

When the first nudgers were caught committing fraud, more than a decade ago, they were assumed to be outliers in an otherwise honest and exciting field:

https://www.npr.org/2016/10/01/496093672/power-poses-co-author-i-do-not-believe-the-effects-are-real

Today, it's hard to find much to salvage from the field. To the extent the field is taken seriously today, it's often due to its critics repeating the claims of its boosters, a process Lee Vinsel calls "criti-hype":

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

For example, the term "dark patterns" lumps together really sneaky tactics with blunt acts of fraud. When you click an "opt out of cookies" button and get a screen that says "Success!" but which has a tiny little "confirm" button on it that you have to click to actually opt out, that's not a "dark pattern," it's just a scam:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/03/27/beware-of-the-leopard/#relentless

By ascribing widespread negative effects to subtle psychological manipulation ("dark patterns") rather than obvious and blatant fraud, we inadvertently elevate "nudging" to a real science, rather than a cult led by scammy fake scientists.

All this raises some empirical questions about choice screens: do they work (in the sense of getting people to break away from defaults), and if so, what's the best way to make them work?

This is an area with a pretty good literature, as it turns out, thanks in part due to some natural experiments, like when Russia forced Google to offer choice screens for Android in 2017, but didn't let Google design that screen. The Russian policy produced a significant switch away from Google's own apps to Russian versions, primarily made by Yandex:

https://cepr.org/publications/dp17779

In 2023, Mozilla Research published a detailed study in which 12,000 people from Germany, Spain and Poland set up simulated mobile and desktop devices with different kinds of choice screens, a project spurred on by the EU's Digital Markets Act, which is going to mandate choice screens starting this year:

https://research.mozilla.org/browser-competition/choicescreen/

I'm spending this week reviewing choice screen literature, and I've just read the Mozilla paper, which I found very interesting, albeit limited. The biggest limitation is that the researchers are getting users to simulate setting up a new device and then asking them how satisfied they are with the experience. That's certainly a question worth researching, but a far more important question is "How do users feel about the setup choices they made later, after living with them on the devices they use every day?" Unfortunately, that's a much more expensive and difficult question to answer, and beyond the scope of this paper.

With that limitation in mind, I'm going to break down the paper's findings here and draw some conclusions about what we should be looking for in any kind of choice screen remedy that comes out of the DOJ antitrust victory over Google.

The first thing note is that people report liking choice screens. When users get to choose their browsers, they expect to be happy with that choice; by contrast, users are skeptical that they'll like the default browser the vendor chose for them. Users don't consider choice screens to be burdensome, and adding a choice screen doesn't appreciably increase setup time.

There are some nuances to this. Users like choice screens during device setup but they don't like choice screens that pop up the first time they use a browser. That makes total sense: "choosing a browser" is colorably part of the "setting up your gadget" task. By contrast, the first time you open a browser on a new device, it's probably to get something else done (e.g. look up how to install a piece of software you used on your old device) and being interrupted with a choice screen at that moment is an unwelcome interruption. This is the psychology behind those obnoxious cookie-consent pop-ups that website bombard you with when you first visit them: you've clicked to that website because you need something it has, and being stuck with a privacy opt-out screen at that moment is predictably frustrating (which is why companies do it, and also why the DMA is going to punish companies that do).

The researchers experimented with different kinds of choice screens, varying the number of browsers on offer and the amount of information given on each. Again, users report that they prefer more choices and more information, and indeed, more choice and more info is correlated with choosing indie, non-default browsers, but this effect size is small (<10%), and no matter what kind of choice screen users get, most of them come away from the experience without absorbing any knowledge about indie browsers.

The order in which browsers are presented has a much larger effect than how many browsers or how much detail is present. People say they want lots of choices, but they usually choose one of the first four options. That said, users who get choice screens say it changes which browser they'd choose as a default.

Some of these contradictions appear to stem from users' fuzziness on what "default browser" means. For an OS vendor, "default browser" is the browser that pops up when you click a link in an email or social media. For most users, "default browser" means "the browser pinned to my home screen."

Where does all this leave us? I think it cashes out to this: choice screens will probably make a appreciable, but not massive, difference in browser dominance. They're cheap to implement, have no major downsides, and are easy to monitor. Choice screens might be needed to address Chrome's dominance even if the court orders Google to break off Chrome and stand it up as a separate business (we don't want any browser monopolies, even if they're not owned by a search monopolist!). So yeah, we should probably make a lot of noise to the effect that the court should order a choice screen, as part of a remedy.

That choice screen should be presented during device setup, with the choices presented in random order – with this caveat: Chrome should never appear in the top four choices.

All of that would help address the browser duopoly, even if it doesn't solve it. I would love to see more market-share for Firefox, which is the browser I've used every day for more than a decade, on my laptop and my phone. Of course, Mozilla has a role to play here. The company says it's going to refocus on browser quality, at the expense of the various side-hustles it's tried, which have ranged from uninteresting to catastrophically flawed:

https://www.fastcompany.com/91167564/mozilla-wants-you-to-love-firefox-again

For example, there was the tool to automatically remove your information from scummy data brokers, that they outsourced to a scummy data-broker:

https://www.theverge.com/2024/3/22/24109116/mozilla-ends-onerep-data-removal-partnership

And there's the "Privacy Preserving Attribution" tracking system that helps advertisers target you with surveillance advertising (in a way that's less invasive than existing techniques). Mozilla rolled this into Firefox on an opt out basis, and made opting out absurdly complicated, suggesting that it knew that it was imposing something on its users that they wouldn't freely choose:

https://blog.privacyguides.org/2024/07/14/mozilla-disappoints-us-yet-again-2/

They've been committing these kinds of unforced errors for more than a decade, seeking some kind of balance between monopolistic web companies and its users' desire to have a browser that protects them from invasive and unfair practices:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2014/may/14/firefox-closed-source-drm-video-browser-cory-doctorow

These compromises represent the fallacy that Mozilla's future depends on keeping bullying entertainment companies and Big Tech happy, so it can go on serving its users. At the same time, these compromises have alienated Mozilla's core users, the technical people who were its fiercest evangelists. Those core users are the authority on technical questions for the normies in their life, and they know exactly how cursed it is for Moz to be making these awful compromises.

Moz has hemorrhaged users over the past decade, meaning they have even less leverage over the corporations demanding that they make more compromises. This sets up a doom loop: make a bad compromise, lose users, become more vulnerable to demands for even worse compromises. "This capitulation puts us in a great position to make a stand in some hypothetical future where we don't instantly capitulate again" is a pretty unconvincing proposition.

After the past decade's heartbreaks, seeing Moz under new leadership makes me cautiously hopeful. Like I say, I am dependent on Firefox and want an independent, principled browser vendor that sees their role as producing a "user agent" that is faithful to its users' interests above all else:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/07/treacherous-computing/#rewilding-the-internet

Of course, Moz depends on Google's payment for default search placement for 90% of its revenue. If Google can't pay for this in the future, the org is going to have to find another source of revenue. Perhaps that will be the EU, or foundations, or users. In any of these cases, the org will find it much easier to raise funds if it is standing up for its users – not compromising on their interests.

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

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

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/12/defaults-matter/#make-up-your-mind-already

Image: ICMA Photos (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/icma/3635981474/

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/

[sapphic-coded]

hey beautiful could u write about a nat x reader break up and there’s so much tension between them until they both break at a dinner party with the team and their dates 😋

Hey Friend! You're so sweet. I hope this lands somewhere in the ballpark of what you were hoping for. Thank you for the request!

No Use In You Trying, Baby

You are invited to a dinner party. Reluctantly, you go and run into your ex.

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Hurt feelings. Language Cap wouldn't approve of.

Word Count: 2.8k

You were content to spend all your time in your lab. It was your happy place. Your playground. This was where you could think clearly, and where all your best ideas originated from. Plus, it wasn’t as if you were hiding away in some basement cut off from the outside world. Your lab at the Compound was huge and had plenty of equally huge windows that allowed plenty of bright, warm sunlight in. And if you needed to socialize, there were plenty of people who walked by your lab daily. 

But you didn’t want to socialize. You wanted to focus on your work because for the first time in months you were finally making progress. Broken equipment and weapons that had just been sitting in your lab were finally leaving polished and new. Projects that had just only been sitting nestled in the back of your mind were suddenly finding life. It was amazing what you could accomplish in a single day without any distractions. 

You rolled backwards on your black swivel chair as you stared at your notes on the yellow legal pad in your hands. You were curious what Clint would think of your idea for this new arrow. The idea had come to you last night, and you had been thinking about it ever since. The back of your chair pressed against one of the many lab tables. You lowered your notepad and turned. All thoughts regarding your new arrow idea fled at the sight of the batons laying on the table. 

You held the batons in your hands and your brow furrowed as your thumbs pressed down on the button built into the base of the weapon. The usual quiet hum of the electrical discharge was silent. You tapped both of the batons together as if that would fix the problem, but nothing changed. 

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind. Familiar, warm hands settled against your stomach while her chin came to rest over your left shoulder. 

“I tried that too,” her voice brushed against your ear. 

You sighed as you studied the twin weapons. “It shouldn’t be too hard to fix. It’s probably a broken conductor or…” You trailed off when you felt her hands travel lower. Her fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt. 

Who the hell put those there? 

“Incoming call from Mr. Stark,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice penetrated the quiet of your lab. 

You stood up and collected the batons. “Put him through.” You listened as Tony’s voice echoed throughout your lab. You carried the batons over to a growing stack of boxes running along the right side of your lab. You opened up the lid on one of the cardboard boxes as Tony went into detail about partnering up on another project he had in mind. You listened for key words while your thumb pressed down on the button at the base of one of the batons. You frowned. Still broken. 

“I also need you at the Tower tonight,” Tony said. 

You dumped the batons into the box. “Why?” 

“Because I’m throwing together a little dinner party,” Tony replied. “Just the team. We haven’t done one of those in a while.”  

“I’m busy,” your reply was automatic. 

“You finished your last official project two weeks ago.” 

“I’m working through my backlog,” you replied. 

“Fine,” Tony said. There was a moment of quiet when you wondered if he had hung up the phone. Your question was answered when you turned your back to the boxes. “I’ll be very interested to see how you manage to do that without any power.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Trust me, I’m wearing my serious face,” Tony replied. “I can demonstrate if you want.” 

The lights in your lab flickered.

“Fine. I’ll be there.” 

– – – 

You used to spend most of your time at Avengers Tower. This was where you got your start working for Tony Stark. When you first arrived at the Tower, you thought the labs there couldn’t get any better. You had been allowed to play around with tech you could only fantasize about. The amount of resources you had at your disposal was endless. It was fun. You loved creating weapons and upgrading equipment for the team. There were few things better than challenging yourself to create something better than the perfect project you just finished. 

When you entered the Tower, you were tempted to just go to your old floor. You hadn’t been able to move everything from your old lab to your new one at the Compound. Playing around with what you had left behind seemed like a better idea than attending a dinner party. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see the team. You did. But it hadn’t even been a month since your last conversation with Natasha. The one that had ended badly. You knew she would be here, and the last thing you wanted to do was see her. Because then everything you had been ignoring would come rushing back. You wouldn’t know what to say, and everything would just be easier if you kept your distance. 

Too bad you weren’t going to get what you wanted. 

When you reached the top floor, Tony was the first to greet you. It seemed you were the last to arrive as the rest of the team were talking amongst each other. You spotted familiar faces. Most of the team had brought along their dates. It made you want to leave even more, but you put on your best smile as you made small talk with the team. Thor was in the middle of telling you a tale of his most recent battle when you saw her. 

She was standing near the bar talking to Laura. Despite trying your best to focus on Thor’s story, you couldn’t help but notice that she looked beautiful. Then again, Natasha always looked stunning. The black dress she wore now only complimented her features. Or rather, the dress acted more like a reminder of a lost privilege. You gripped your glass of expensive wine tighter at the thought. Privilege? You hadn’t lost anything like that. Just a relationship that was bound to crash and burn. 

“...and then he went flying off the mountain,” Thor’s laugh drew your attention back to the god. “Never thought it’d end like that.” He shook his head and then took a long drink from his flask. “So, I hear you spend your time forging new weapons.”

“Uh, yeah,” you looked past Thor. Natasha smiled at something Laura had said. Stop it. You focused back on Thor and started talking about all the projects you had completed recently. You chose to only talk about the projects you knew would keep Thor’s attention: equipment upgrades, a very close to being completed laser sword, and an attempt to copy his hammer. He found that last bit very funny. 

You were grateful when everyone was summoned to the table for the actual dinner. All you had to do now was eat the food, make a tiny amount of more small talk, and then you could leave. You already had your excuses prepared. But as you approached the table, you realized that Tony had thrown a curveball your way. Tony had gone through (or rather he had someone else go through) and assigned the team seats. You already had an idea of where this was going, and your suspicion was confirmed when you found your seat right next to Natasha. 

You looked over at Tony. He winked at you, and you were tempted to leave. Instead, you sat down in your seat and set your expensive wine down on the table. You could do this. She hadn’t approached you yet this entire evening. The feeling of not wanting to interact with each other was mutual. You both could talk to other people. This was fine. 

The smell of her perfume hit you first. It grabbed hold of you and yanked you back through countless memories. You remembered the smell of jasmine with the barest hint of vanilla flooding your senses when she pulled you in for that first kiss. You remembered how your legs turned to jelly, and you were terrified that you were going to fall. You didn’t fall. Somehow, you stayed on your feet until the kiss was over. Your mind had gone blank. You had felt painfully dumb. What were you supposed to do? 

She smiled as her hands settled at your waist. “Aren’t you going to kiss me back?” 

You looked to your left as she sat down in her seat. She looked gorgeous and happy. As if nothing life altering had happened. You felt a spike of jealousy. She probably had forgotten all about you by now. Breaking off your relationship hadn’t changed anything for her. You had been right to doubt your relationship all along. You had only been a convenient fuck. You were so stupid to believe all those promises she made you. She certainly couldn’t keep many of them. 

You looked away and took a good, long drink of whatever Tony had poured into your glass. A wait staff appeared and set plates filled with delicious smelling food down in front of everyone. You set your now empty glass down, and another waiter appeared to refill it. You picked up your knife and fork and began cutting into the meat. You could do this. You should just pretend she isn’t here. Rogers was sitting to your right. You could always just make conversation with him. 

“Is this what we’re doing now?” her voice was low enough for only you to catch. 

You forced yourself to keep your focus on your plate as you continued to cut into the meat. Red juices leaked from what was probably a delicious cut of meat. “Yup.” You stabbed your fork into the tender meat and pushed it into your mouth. You chewed. Fuck. It was good. You heard her sigh, and you didn’t need to look at her to know she was also, most likely, shaking her head. 

“It’s a bad move,” she said. 

You bit back the first thought that came to mind and continued to eat. 

“This is obviously a setup. They’re trying to fix things,” she continued when you didn’t respond. 

You looked around at the table as you chewed. Everyone else was busy talking amongst themselves. You swallowed and still refused to look at her. “There’s nothing to fix.” She didn’t respond right away and you reached for your glass. Maybe this was all about to end. 

“Then I suggest we play along unless you want to go through this again,” she said. 

You set your glass down before you could take a sip and finally looked over at her. “I’m not going to play along.” You spotted the familiar look of frustration cross her face. It didn’t surprise you. Whenever you refused to go along with any of her plans, she got annoyed with you. You should have known from the very beginning that this relationship was never going to work. You felt stupid for even trying. 

“Fine. I guess I’ll see you at the next dinner party,” Natasha looked away from you.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you stabbed your fork into another piece of meat. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be too busy to attend the next one.” 

“Didn’t you already try that excuse?” she asked. 

You shoveled the piece of meat into your mouth and chewed. You didn’t bother to ask how she knew that. It was Natasha. She knew everything about you. You hated it. You hated that she was right. You hated sitting here so close to her. Every minute that passed was just more reminders of what had made you happy. It was gone, and you just wanted it all to stay dead. Why hadn’t Natasha shown up with the date? Why didn't you? You could think of a dozen ways you could have approached this whole stupid thing differently.  

“Y/N,” her voice was softer now and you felt a burning behind your eyes. 

“I can’t do this,” you heard the waver in your voice. You shouldn’t have come. You knew what would happen. You knew you would see her. You knew you would feel all these things. You weren’t sure if you couldn’t hear the other conversations happening around the table because people had stopped talking or because your quickening heart beat was now filling your ears. “I can’t.” 

You felt her hand fall over your own, and you quickly snatched your hand back and stood up. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes on you as you quickly left. You heard their voices all rise up as one, but you didn’t look back. You just needed to leave. Get some fresh air. Go back to the Compound and forget about all of this. 

Your pace quickened as you left the team behind and hurried towards the elevator. You were grateful that the doors parted immediately upon pushing the button. You stepped inside and pressed the button that would take you down to the garage. Your vision blurred and you felt a hot tear spill down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Stupid. This had been stupid. The doors started to close and just when you thought your escape was complete, Natasha slipped into the elevator. 

The doors shut completely and you shook your head. “No.” Your hand reached out towards the panel of buttons. You went to push the button that would force the elevator doors back open, but Natasha grabbed your hand before you could. “Let go, Nat. I’m not going back to that stupid party.” 

“That’s not why I’m here,” she said and released your hand the moment the elevator began to descend. 

Your hand dropped back down to your side. “Then why are you here?” You realized that was the wrong question to ask as her red lips parted to answer. You shook your head. “No! No. I don’t want to know. Just leave me alone.” 

She took a small step closer to you, and you instinctively stepped back and felt your back pressed against the cool wall of the elevator. “You’re not even going to give me a chance?” 

“A chance to do what? Lure me back to your side with more fake promises of some happy life together? You can’t use that bullshit on me anymore. I was just a convenient fuck for you,” you felt another tear slip, and you used the back of your hand to wipe it away. 

“You broke up with me,” she argued. 

“Because you pushed me away,” your voice wavered again, and you hated it. “Every time I tried to help or understand, you kept me out. The only time you let me in was when you wanted to fuck me. The only time you wanted me around was if you wanted to have sex with me. I wasn’t your girlfriend. I was your toy.” 

“I know.”

You were ready for anything. You had replayed all your arguments in your head hundreds of times. You were ready for any of her arguments. Except for that. Those two words caught you completely off guard. 

“I messed up,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

What was happening? This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You were supposed to argue back and forth until you were both spent and upset and eager to get away from each other. 

“Please let me try again.”

She had somehow managed to get even closer to you. Her voice was soft, and her olive green eyes were searching your face. She was trying to gauge your emotions. You could only wonder what she saw because you didn’t know how to feel. Tears still threatened to spill down your cheeks from all the pain you had been shoving down these past few weeks. Walking away from her had hurt so much. Because you did love her, and it had killed you to realize that she didn’t love you. 

You wanted to leap at this chance. You wanted it so badly, but you were hesitant. You had barely been able to walk away from her last time. You weren’t sure you would be able to do it again if all of this happened again. But you wanted to believe it wouldn’t. You wanted to believe that there was still some life in this dying husk of a relationship. 

You didn’t realize what had happened until her lips were pressed against yours. It felt like your first kiss all over again, only better. It felt familiar. The kiss was soft but needy. It reminded you of all the other ways she had kissed you before. The smell of her perfume flooded your senses, and you just wanted to collapse into her arms. You were tired of being angry. Tired of being upset. You wanted this. The kiss ended far too soon, and you started to lean forward to chase her retreating lips. 

You saw her smile when the elevator reached the garage floor, and the doors opened. You didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, you waited for the elevator doors to close before you leaned forward to kiss her back. 

[alex31624]

What do you see the kids doing in the future?

Great ask.

I feel like Huey belongs in the science field. Working at McDuck Labs, first as an intern, then as a scientist. He would have a PhD. He would eventually become the head of the lab. The Junior Woodchucks are an important part of Huey; I don't see him leaving that part of his life behind. Like Launchpad, Huey would be in charge of the Duckburg troop, guiding the new talents.

Dewey wants to do everything and try everything. He's a singer, an actor, a semi-professional golfer, a professional wrestler, a professional pilot, and an adventurer. He goes where he feels he needs to go.

Part of my headcanon is that Louie paints, and it's an important part of his life. Let's go a little outside the box with him and say he made it his profession. A famous, established, and millionaire painter. Perfect for him. Still, he makes time to run a profitable business, which we'll talk about later.

Webby is an adventurer, you can't take her out of her element. She explores the world and discovers its secrets. Sometimes alone, sometimes with the company of her family and friends. She's also a S.H.U.S.H. field agent.

May works in fashion. She started as Daisy's apprentice, then developed her own style and is now a famous couturier. She also writes, having published a few horror and mystery books. They're not a global phenomenon, but she has a loyal fanbase. Of course, she also joined S.H.U.S.H., but she was later transferred to The Agency, where she conducts even more secret operations. The codename she inherited is Double Duck. Yes, she's her father's successor.

June is a mechanical engineer. She also works at McDuck Labs and sometimes argues with Huey over projects. And while she loves her job, her night shift motivates her even more, as she patrols the streets of Duckburg under the mask of Duck Avenger. That's right, she also inherited an alter ego from her father. Of course, Uno is her faithful ally.

Lena runs a magical creature control and enchantment business. If you're having trouble with harpies, if ghosts are keeping you awake, if you've fallen under a voodoo curse, Lena is the one to call. Her work takes her all over the world, where she also takes the opportunity to help homeless children. No one should have to go through what she went through. The business is run by Louie, and the two are happily married.

Violet is also a scientist, but unlike Huey, she can't do a deskjob. Violet joins Webby and Lena on their expeditions to investigate the secrets of the world, the biology of magical creatures, and other mysteries. She has several published works and won several awards. She is happily married to Huey.

B.O.Y.D. is another scientist, and also works for McDuck Labs. Technically Huey's second-in-command, the two best friends prefer to call themselves co-heads of the lab. Gyro has upgraded his body every year so he can grow alongside his friends. He supports Lena in her quest to improve the living conditions of homeless children. Happily married to May.

Gosalyn is a hero. The vigilante who watches over St. Canard under the mask of Quiverwing Quack. Unlike Darkwing, she has no problem teaming up with another hero, making the duo of Quiverwing Quack and Duck Avenger the most feared by criminals. Her day job is as a professional hockey player, because did we really think Gosalyn would do anything else? They aren't officially married, but she and Dewey might as well be.

Thanks for the ask @conman-17, hope you liked it.

[viktorarcanedeservesbetter]

More Jayvik Headcanons cause I can’t stop

Viktor gets upset any time Jayce tried killing a bug, using a rat trap or shooing away birds from their windows so he has to capture and release everything and also adds bird feeders to the little balcony. One time a bird flew into their window and fell to the ground (they don't know what happened to it after) and Viktor got so upset (he claims it was the 48hours w/o sleep) that Jayce had to take him home for the day.

Jayce reads out loud to both of them at night, especially when Viktor is too much of an insomniac to sleep. Viktor repays him with shoulder massages when Jayce can’t sleep.

Viktor gets propositioned by members and students of the academy the time. Jayce is fine with this. Jayce gets propositioned by members of different houses all the time. Viktor is totally fine with this. (They aren’t but they get very possessive, which turns them both on).

Viktor made fun of Jayce’s man of progress mug so much that Jayce upped it with a Viktor commemorative plate. Viktor then made Jayce-themed silverware. Jayce commissioned Viktor tailored napkins. The war of commemorative dinnerware is still ongoing.

Viktor has to hold Jayce’s hand whenever they visit farmers markets or other town centers. Not just because he likes holding hands, it’s because Viktor wanders off all time and gets distracted by everything. Jayce lost him for two hours one time.

Jayce has to wear some sort of apron or shirt in the forge now. He’s gotten too many chest burns and tears that no matter how good he looks, he’s got to wear some sort of guard. Viktor is slightly disappointed but at least Jayce is safe from 3rd degree burns.

They have to turn the fan on at night for the white noise, due to them both hating silence. (Working in the lab/forge for years means tinnitus). It also helps that Jayce runs hot (and cuddles an ice box Viktor) and they created sheets that even out their temperatures. They have not marketed these sheets because it would mean detailed explanations on how they know it works. (They have created ones for Caitlyn and Vi though.)

They both love flowers and gift them to each other all the time. They have to do fresh cut, because neither of them can keep potted plants alive.

It is inevitable, that if you are a current council member and decide to pay them a visit to see for yourself what they are doing in the labs, then you will walk in on them in very compromising positions at least once. Mel only told Shoola, so she's been able to knock and warn them. Cassandra one time walked in on them shirtless + making out, rolled her eyes, warned them about lab safety and proper protocols, and stood there waiting until they redressed and made them do a rundown of their current prototypes. power move queen. (learned it from Mel).

Jayce can cook but not bake, Viktor can bake but not cook. Jayce likes how cooking (save for temperatures) is a little more freeform and can't help but try and be a little more lax with baking, but it always ends up badly (rock-solid bread, cookies that are paper-thin and salty.) However he has made stunning 4-course meals and can make even a basic sandwich 5-star quality.

Viktor likes the structure of baking. He can make literally any bread or dessert with just one look at a recipe. Using baking to de-stress even. Has made macrons of all flavors. However, do not ask him to cook. His tastebuds for anything that isn't sweet are wack. Once dropped an entire container of salt into soup once and didn't notice.

Awful handwriting for the both of them. Only they know what each other wrote. Sky has to transcribe anything official. Mel can only sort of read what they have written on their boards, but that's mostly by context clues. Caitlyn doesn't even bother.

They have a timer for water that goes off every 30 minutes in a work day. It's enforced by Sky because they get so focused they forget to hydrate.

[midnight1nk]

PRESENTING:

THE OFFICIAL WOTFI 2024 BINGO CARD

Come one and all to Puzzle Park, where fun truly never ends...

:)

[BOX EXPLANATIONS & EMPTY CARD UNDER CUT]

BOX EXPLANATIONS (+CREDITS)

Mario Ruins The Show — me, @sardix

No matter what Mr Puzzles does, Mario is the only character he can't control. The one who never obeys. The one who ruins the show. So, it wouldn't be the first time Mario would save the day.

Past Arcs Or Trauma — /sardix

it's bound to happen some time, right? :)

Karma

After what he did to Meggy, it makes sense that Mr. Puzzles will face the same demise. The fate that's popular within the fandom would be his death. But if he lives, he could turn into Leggy himself, his TV head with tiny footsies. Or just his head. Either way, he would end up harmless.

It also refers to Puzzles's defeat. He tried to destroy the crew multiple times, it's only natural that the SMG Crew will try to fight back.

Mr Puzzles having a grudge against SMG4 — /sardix

We already knew that Puzzles hates Four, jealous even. How did Four, a ridiculous YT shitposter, get more attention than him? His original ideas pushed aside for memes? To add salt in the wound, Puzzles's steaming service of 5 episodes only managed 4.5 stars at his highest while Four surpassed him with 5.5 stars within an hour. An hour. And then, Four had the nerve to destroy his perfect screen at the end of the Puzzlevision movie. Then, there's the Meme Factory arc. Four took his only friend away, it's only fair if Four gets what he deserves. Why don't we have some fun with it while we're at it? :)

Park Destroyed — @34saveme34

By the end of WOTFI, Puzzle Park gets destroyed similar to how the simulation lab crumbled by the end of Western Spaghetti, seeing that there are a lot of similarities between Wren and Puzzles with the whole wires thing going on.

It's Gotta Be Perfect — me, @time1srunout, and literally everyone

Interestingly, the show crew brings back moments/parallels from IGBP. After all, everything started at that arc. Perfection, the keyboard, the eyes, the goo, the Showgrounds, Puzzlevision. And of course, Four and Puzzles being Narrative Foils(TM). I mean, you gotta love it.

The reason why it's in its own box is because of how significant it is. And besides, many theories stem from this arc. For me, I'll be looking for eyes, Goop!Four, and absolute karma.

References, confirmed theories, motifs, flashbacks, it all counts.

Freak Show

Referring to the poster made by the SMG4 crew with Tari, SMG3, Boopkins, and Bob being labeled as freaks. Someone's gotta bring this into WOTFI somehow.

(Carnival-Themed) Rap — me, @porschas-palette

Just as a heist-themed WOTFI happened in 2023, an awesome carnival-themed rap will happen this year. And it will be a BANGER!

Puzzles' Backstory — me, @yullalightk

As much as Puzzles is an interesting character, we have yet to learn more about his past. We have already seen some in his Creative Control song and in the 'Mr Puzzles' Clubhouse' episode with his dad. There simply has to be more. The puzzle pieces of his past :) ...I'll see myself out

The Bell Tolls 🔔

For the past few weeks, Ben and Shadow have been trolling the SMG4 twitter with their ;) and the bell emoji.

Stop stop [*points at SMG4 twt*] they're already dead/ref

On one tweet, Ben posted a few lyrics of the song "For Whom the Bell Tolls", a 1984 song by Metallica that was apparently inspired by a book of the same name, which basically tells a scene in the story where 5 soldiers died in the Spanish Civil War. Exploring death in modern warfare. As for whom the bell tolls, it's all of us, being bounded together. It's all of them who the bell tolls for.

Any reference to the heavy metal song, signs of bells, or even death, it marks this box for sure. Sure, it may be trolling, but hey, anything's possible.

Not So Different

With Four and Puzzles being Narrative Foils(TM), I've been waiting for a scene of Puzzles telling Four:

"You and I, we aren't so different. You wished to make people happy. I'm simply doing the same..."

It also be in reverse with Four OR Three telling that to Mr Puzzles that they get where he's coming from but he doesn't have to go down this path. They know what it's like. Whether Puzzles accepts defeat/change, it'll be up to him.

(Ending) Twist — me, /porschas-palette

At the very end of WOTFI, Mr Puzzles finally came out in all this glory of a model, showing he also pulled the strings of WOTFI 2023. Aside from IGBP and Western Spaghetti, of course. It's likely to happen again. Old/new characters, foreshadowing, fake death. It all counts.

Merch

...I mean, it's pretty obvious, right? I'm gonna bet on a poster, shirt/hoodie, a keychain, and something related to the WOTFI ticket. 5 bucks, all in.

Star Rating System

This whole arc constantly comes back to the ratings. Mr Puzzles in the negatives in the "Lowest Point" episode, Mickey referring the single star as the power source in the Engine Room in "Mr Puzzles' Clubhouse". And no, we're not going to forget about the broken star Mr Puzzles had left at the end of Puzzlevision. With Mr Puzzles being THE power source, it has to come back.

Sacrifice — me, /sardix, /porschas-palette

"Character Death" and "Character Fake Death" were great suggestions. But then, when sardix stated "Mario saves the day doing something stupid/protects someone from dying", it made me realize something. That's right, each one of the Crew would do anything to protect the others. Even if it costs them their lives. But it's worth the risk if it means they're safe. Three technically did in the "Welcome to Puzzle Park" episode, trying to warn Four and Mario. I mentioned in my theories that someone will sacrifice themselves, so this might be it.

It could also mean in terms of the exchange of something else, not necessarily a life. It could be Meggy's physical condition, knowing that she was forced to become Leggy again. Based on all those screams, I think her body's not going to be the same. A loss of a limb or something. Or perhaps, after seeing what he's done, Mr Puzzles might admit defeat. The sacrifice of his dream for creative vision.

Tender Tunnel — me, Nicc

What other reason would there be to have the equivalent of the Tunnel of Love in Puzzle Park? Literally, why would they do that? They could've put anything else in there. Popping balloon stand, the horse racing game, any other ride. Why this? And not just that, they keep pointing the camera right at it as if they're like "hey, this is going to become relevant later, so remember it".

SMG4 Kids

This whole arc also revolved around the children. Karen's kids, Beeg4, Eggdog, JubJub. Like I said in my "The Unexpected Guests" theory, they could still be relevant here. Also, the whole Didney thing and their large kid audience and the carnival being fun for kids (and all ages ofc).

Puzzles Dies 💀 — Nicc

As much as some of us don't want it to happen, Mr Puzzles may die, similarly how Wren did. For how to defeat Puzzles, it seems like the Crew would have to destroy the power source that's currently controlling the park... aka Mr Puzzles

Meggy Confronts

By the near end of WOTFI, in the final showdown between the Crew and Puzzles, Meggy might be back to normal and might have a few words with him in regards to what happened to her. In song or pure dialogue, she might confront him about his wrongdoings.

Or perhaps, for the very first time, Leggy might defy him. The whole time, Leggy is like "Join the winning team, he was such a great boss". And what if something snapped in Leggy that made her say "no" to Puzzles? That, no, this is going too far. No, I can't let you do this.

"You Saved Me" 💫 💣 — me, /sardix

SMG4 x SMG3 shippers, we're all too familiar with this line. Ever since SMG3 redeemed himself, the two have constantly said this line, after one indeed does save the other. Actually, it kind of happens in every movie if you think about it. And it works just as well here.

SMG3 being in a horrible minigame trap might get saved by Four and Mario with Four pulling out of it,

Three: "You... saved me?" Four: "Why wouldn't I? You were literally in a trap, dude." Three, hitting the back of Four's head: "I... Augh, just forget it, baka."

OR in reverse, when Four thanks Three for trying to save him and Mario. They didn't exactly escape in time but Three really has grown to become a true friend.

This box also works as a "Four and Three moment that can be seen as romantic" box :)

Brand New Look

This could be new outfits, bringing back old ones (like Three's bunny ears or WOTFI '23 suits), a new Puzzle face, or a new look of the Puzzle Park.

Puzzles Tune

Puzzles' musical motif dubbed as "TV Time", the one we're all familiar with, could come back. Either in the background, as a new arrangement, or as part of the Rap(TM) instrumental. It did that for WOTFI 2023 to foreshadow his subtle involvement so I don't see why it couldn't happen.

Dynamic Change

After rewatching "SMG4 and SMG3 come up with an episode", I predicted that something would change in Four and Three's dynamic, for better or worse. (For better, hopefully). As I said, it could be Three's revelation. Sure, the episode is a silly one, it should not be taken so seriously. But it's also the same episode that "hinted" the idea of a carnival coming to the Showgrounds, so anything could happen at this point.

And it doesn't have to be between Four and Three, it could be anyone in WOTFI. Leggy and Puzzles, the Crew within, etc.

Leggy's Flag

As shown in the "Lowest Point" episode, Mr Puzzles kept Leggy's flag after all this time. It wouldn't be a surprise that it might be used for a turning point in the plot in some way. Maybe it could be used as evidence of Puzzles' humanity, or for Puzzles to realize the damage he has caused. That he lost himself. All for creative vision.

BLANK CARD

If you want to fill in your own card, I leave here a blank version for your use AND a marker png:

Also, feel free to post this on other platforms, the more the merrier. All I ask from you is to credit me.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Have fun with it, bring in your moots or discord server! But as always, enjoy what WOTFI has to offer. "Love always wins", after all.

I would like to give a big thanks to everyone who has given me suggestions, great job honestly!

And feel free to share your cards after WOTFI either by tagging me or using #wotfi 2024 bingo, I would love to see them! I'll see you all on the other side, my dear fellows.

[personthingsblog]

Another story to fulfil my delusions

No one knew where the hell the glowing food came from

It started with miko,jack and Raf poking around the corner of Ratchet’s lab. next, they were chewing on something that looked suspiciously like an energon supplement bar dipped in glitter and illegal.(don’t ask why)

Then a flash

Then smoke

Then silence

The autobots came in next ready to fight or punch anything ,but they found three tiny humans in oversized clothing, blinking up at them.Miko was now the size of a melon with hair that stuck out like a dandelion.Jack had one sock hanging off his head like a hat.Raf was chewing on Ratchet’s clipboard.They were babies.And not just toddlers. Like, wobbly-limbed, barely-can-say-a-word, living-Jello-level babies.

At first they couldn’t recognise the babies until they saw jack terrible haircut ,Raf pointy hair and miko pink ends,then the autobots looked on the floor,next to them was a opened jar with the glowing food spilled out from it which was labeled with DO NOT EAT ,ESPECIALLY YOU MIKO in 6 different languages,when they saw that ratchet was like “why tf would you guys eat it @#@#!#@$@#@$#”and looked like he was a second away from rebooting and the rest of the autobots were :👁️👄👁️ wtf

The chaos continued until, somewhere between juice boxes and burp cloths, IT happened.

The babies chose their favourite bots

It wasn’t an official ceremony. But to the Autobots, it might as well have been sacred Cybertronian prophecy.sp the babies since they couldn’t walk,the dragged their whole body to their favourite bot

Miko refused to crawl in a straight line,she litterally crawled zig zag and jumped into Bulkhead’s arms. If anyone else so much as suggested picking her up, she wailed like the world was ending. She called him “Buh-buh.”

Raf climbed into Bee’s lap and fell asleep with his thumb in his mouth, snuggling into Bee’s chestplate with a happy sigh.

Jack, the quiet one the one one one can predict cause he was aimlessly crawling around the base and he sat in front of a wall staring at it like it could tell the future before saying “meh” .after a moment of deep philosophical crawling, launched himself into Arcee’s waiting arms and declared: “Asee.”

And the chosen bots were like: bee attempted to throw Raf up in the air in happiness (ratchet threw a wrench at his head before he could throw Raf up ) bee : 😢ow

Bulk was trying to wrap miko in a burrito and lifted her like the world’s most precious potato. and arcee lifted jack up high into the air like how the monkey from the lion king lifted simba up and and was like “i was the chosen one”

The base went freakin silent after that.

Then wheeljack squinted “did they just pick favourites?”

Arcee held Jack closer and said “Yes. Yes, they did.”with the smuggest look in the whole universe . Smokescreen, Wheeljack, and Ratchet stood empty-armed. Broken. Rejected.Optimus stood in the middle like a judge at a tournament.

“They have chosen,” he said solemnly. “I am worthy,” Bulkhead whispered. “I will kill for this child,” Arcee added without blinking. Bee beeped: “I am loved. And also sticky.” Ratchet groaned. “This is not a ranking! This is temporary! Their minds are regressed—”(ratchet was actually jealous as hell but wouldn’t admit it) “SHE CALLED ME BUHKIE, RATCHET,” Bulkhead hissed. “BUHKIE.” “HE FELL ON ME ON PURPOSE,” Arcee shot back. “RAF TOUCHED MY SPARK COVER,” Bee trilled proudly.Smokescreen curled into a corner. “This is the worst day of my life. Wheeljack began making a list titled: “Top 100 Ways To Win A Baby’s Heart (And Beat Bulkhead).”

Smokescreen tried to win Jack over by juggling cookies.Jack threw the cookies at first face and arcee was standing at the back nodding at jack like a proud mother Wheeljack tried to impress Miko with explosives.She screamed in joy, then crawled back to Bulkhead. Ratchet tried to give Raf a puzzle cube. Raf chewed it, then cried for Bee. Smokescreen finally snapped and declared:

“I’M ADOPTING A ROCK.”

Finally, Optimus tried to win a baby too.he bought a colouring book adn went to miko .She stared up at him,then the book ,reached out— and slapped the colouring book away . Then pointed at Bulkhead and screamed, “MY BUHKIE.”

Jack, watching from Arcee’s arm, growled. “NO TOUCH MOM.”(arcee when she heard jack call her mom she was Soo happy and was like “that’s right jack,I’m your mother now😍🥹). Raf clung to Bee’s grill and blinked. Optimus paused. “…I see.” He turned and walked slowly down the hall. Ratchet followed. “You okay?” “I have led armies, Ratchet.” “I know.” “I have defeated Megatron.”

“Yep.”

“But I could not defeat a baby.”

Ratchet patted his arm. “Join the club.”

(No judging adn no hate pls)

(But should i make a pt.2 or just leave it like this?)