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potatomountain · 11 months ago

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CiY- CH 18

Chapter Eighteen

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader 📍Summary: "Answers? or more questions?" 📍WC: 3.1k 📍AU: detective/mafia 📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, suggested voyeurism, suggestive, Wooyoung makes everything sexual 📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society 📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour

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With a few days to rest and be alone with your mind all you could do was think about Mingi. You came to terms with the fact it wasn’t that he told the others about you two fucking, you partly expected that, but it was about Chan. The fact they knew about Chan, what had happened.

And that San, unlike Mingi, didn't seem like the type to brag about his sexual encounters.

By Thursday morning you had done nothing but sit and stew and worry. You were ready to dive head first into the work, into whatever cover you were given and completely forget how vulnerable you had been with two men and how they aired your dirty laundry for their friends, who not all liked you, to hear. Part of you was dreading Wooyoung as you were sure he had questions you did not want to answer, probably ever. Yet he was at your apartment door, first thing in the morning, with breakfast and a shopping bag in his hand. “Morning sunshine, time to prepare to slay the day.” He barged right in, pushing the bag into your hand and then making his way to your couch. “Wear that and then come eat. We’ll do your makeup after.” Brow furrowed, you watched him for a moment more before sighing and heading to your room. Right to business then, that was fine by you. But you took a shower first at least. The clothes themselves were gaudy and tight, but not to the point to draw attention to yourself. Well, depending on where you went. You were assuming downtown, all things considered, which this worked for. Dressed, you sat down on your sofa next to him to see he made himself at home: TV on, lounging back against the cushions, mouth full of the breakfast sandwich he was eating. He motioned to the other sandwich and coffee set out, right down to your preferences.

When had he learned them? “Did San tell you what I like?” You hummed out, taking a sip of coffee, remembering the surprise breakfast the day you had been late.

“Yeosang did. Scolded me when I tried to get you something different,” He replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of his own coffee.

You gawked, unsure if you heard him right. Yeosang did? The grump that barely liked to talk to you or look your way? He got his panties in a twist making sure you got food you liked? That just didn't add up.

As if sensing the disturbance in the force, Wooyoung glanced over at you, chuckling at your slack jaw. “He's anal about specifics, don't worry about it. Just eat, we have a lot of bases to cover today and you need to do your hair and some makeup. Sunglasses would work or a mask. Windows are tinted but we'll be walking around a bit as well.”

With a nod you focused on your food, Wooyoung laughing at something on the TV. He glanced at you often, grinning when you met his eyes, but didn't speak up. He let you eat, even once he was all done. You took the chance to look him over, to take note of his appearance. Baggy white washed jeans, blank tank under an open button up that the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing that one of his arms was completely covered in black and white ink, small hints of color. His dual hair was pulled back in a half ponytail, really showing off the blonde under it. The growing smirk on his lips told you he was aware of you checking him out, and you found yourself grinning in turn, laughing under your breath when his tongue poked out and up at the side of his mouth, chuckling without looking at you directly. It was kind of cute actually.

“Like what you see?” He quipped once he got his laughter under control, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “You know it.” You set your empty wrapper aside and leaned towards him as he turned more towards you, finally giving you his full attention since he got here. “I never did thank you.” He lifted his brow, the slit even more defined in it. “Thank me for what?” His eyes flickered down to where your hand now laid on his knee, his pupils dilating in response. You realized how easy it would be to play with him physically, but quickly chased that thought away. While you had been open to it beforehand, your anger at Mingi and the others flared to life once more. “Oh just being honest with me; whether it was about how attractive you think I am, or about the others. I am still surprised you just blatantly kissed San like that.” He noticed the change in demeanor, the smirk faltering on his features but slipping into an almost sympathetic expression. “They aren’t very honest with you are they? How rude of them. If you asked me to bark, I would. Asked me to eat their cum out of your cunt, I would gladly. Asked me to-” Your hand covered his mouth quickly, ears hot from his words. “Easy easy, what you would let me do to you sexually has nothing to do with what you would tell me in confidence.” You pointed out, creating some distance between you as you stood up. “And now isn’t the time for any of that. I’ve been twiddling my thumbs far too often. I would like to work.” Maybe it was an excuse to avoid the topic further, since Wooyoung had seemed intent on making it sexual, but you were really eager to get to work. He thankfully let the subject drop then helped you with your hair while you did minimal makeup. The accessories were a different story, much more than you were comfortable with for undercover work but understandable. So many necklaces, earrings, bracelets and hair pieces. He really was selling the gaudy appearance. He took you out to the car once you complained for the nth time that you did not want to waste another hour on your appearance especially if you were going to be in the car for most of it. It had you almost pouty as you climbed into the undercover car, windows so tinted you really couldn’t see inside at all, but it was crystal clear inside- the rundown exterior did not match the luxury of the inside. “The fuck? Can the department afford this?” “Nah this is my personal car. Well, one of them anyways. Buckle up Goddess it’ll be a long drive. We have a lot of stops to cover. Oh and-” He reached for the center console, tapping some buttons on the screen there until Yeosang’s face popped up illuminated by blue light from multiple computer screens. “Sangie say hi will you?” You were reminded of Wooyoung’s earlier comment, now taking in the onyx hair that fell in Yeosang’s eyes a bit, noticing they weren’t as dark as the others or that could be the light from the computers illuminating them. The light also illuminated a birthmark by his left eye, part of it on the outer corner and another a bit away, nearly shaped like a heart. His features were beautiful, even on this small screen, and you were surprised they didn’t immediately twist in disgust when he noticed you. In fact he seemed a bit shell shocked, eyes widening as he took in your appearance as you did his, only pulling away when Wooyoung cleared his throat. “Can you two not eye fuck each other in my presence? Thanks.” Yeosang tore his eyes away immediately to glare at Wooyoung. “I wasn’t! She just looks… different.” The pink dusting of his golden cheeks said differently but you weren’t one to question it.

Instead you were questioning what had changed. Your last interaction with Yeosang was when Chan appeared, and while the man had been a bit civil there, you didn’t expect it to warrant this level of… what was this? Acceptance? No, but he didn’t seem at all upset about your presence. “Don’t tease Wooyoung, let’s get this started okay? Is he going to be with us the whole ride?” You buckled in and got comfortable, setting your purse down that held your gun and credentials. Wooyoung had insisted you didn’t need them but you felt safer with them. Not really even safer but more confident in your capabilities. Wooyoung started up the car and pulled away from your apartment complex. “He is. We still want to log how you do in the field and if we need any information instantly, he will be here to get it. Whether on the screen or in our earpieces, he will be listening in.” You rolled your eyes. “Sounds like I’m being babysat.” “Quite the opposite Goddess, I’m the one being babysat.” Wooyoung grinned over at you, Yeosang’s attention on other screens in front of him so you got his side profile more than anything. “Gotta make sure I actually focus on the job and not on getting you on my cock.” The words left him effortless and had Yeosang choking on air.

Glancing at the man on the screen for a moment, you nearly yelped when you felt Wooyoung’s hand on your bare knee. “Though they forgot I don’t mind an audience and I think Yeosang would love to watch my cock driving up into your- owowowowow my hand!” Wooyoung cried out, trying to pull his hand out of your now crushing grip. You let him go if only because he was driving, glaring at him. “I can see why you need a babysitter. Are you constantly turned on or something?” “Definitely close to constantly, at least in your presence.” He whined out, now rubbing his injured hand to his chest as you had stopped in traffic. He pouted out at you. “You can squeeze my cock like that-” You grabbed his shirt and pulled him over, fist raised as if to hit him when he put his hands up in defense, “-okay okay I’ll calm down! Eesh!” Yeosang was wheezing on the screen, hunched over the desk with his face out of sight but the back of his head was shaking in the frame, shoulders as well. You could almost make out laughter, which had you sneering a bit. Yeosang was not going to be a very good babysitter apparently.

And this was going to be one long ride. _________ Despite Wooyoung’s innate ability to turn everything sexual or mention how much he wanted to fuck you, constantly, it was turning into an informative day. He took you around downtown, stopping at first in the red light district, an arm around your waist as he shifted his walk as if acting and dragged you around. It was a bit surprising for such a district to be busy even before lunch, which you suspected was due to the success of those that were here. Yeosang was in your earpieces, explaining to you each place you stopped at since Wooyoung could not do so out loud. You were beginning to like the man’s deep voice in your ear, and the lisp that popped up whenever he spoke English was endearing. But there were a few things he said that had peaked your interest. Like, for one, once you two hit deeper Pink Boa territory, a small section of downtown with an extravagant strip club with apartments above, Wooyoung pointed to one of the windows and said “Mom lives there” and easily moved on to point to the night club across the street. “I got kicked out of there when I was a teen. Mom caught me sneaking out alcohol.” You moved on to a men’s host club further down the street and learned another fun piece of information. “Hwa worked there at one point. Should see him dance.” “Woo, stop pointing these out, it's irrelevant at the moment.” Yeosang said in your ear, and Wooyoung’s as well. “It is interesting though.” Wooyoung turned to you. “Does any of this bother you? These sexual places we worked or lived in?” You swore you noticed something else in his eyes, a deeper question you couldn’t name. “Why would it?” You questioned, looking back at him. “Do these things change how you treat me?” He paused for a moment, contemplating your words before nodding. “And if you had to live here or work here to do your job?” He asked under his breath, pulling you closer to his side. You realized this was the sort of stuff they would do for undercover work, or well remembered it since Mingi had constantly brought women back to sleep with and get information. Wooyoung was essentially asking if you could do it. Humming softly, you turned him so you were chest to chest, pressing closer and running your hands down his chest to hook your forefingers in his belt loops. “You should see me dance, I think I can put Seonghwa to shame.” He smirked, leaning in to brush his nose over yours. “I’m sure you could.” He leaned in more to whisper in your free ear “I’m sure you fuck better than him too.” He pulled away and out of reach of your swing, predicting it before your hand was pulled back to smack him. Laughing he skipped ahead, and you followed. Then there was the car, no longer in the red light district, but more center town where it was a bit more high class. The shopping district was uptown center but this seemed to be a bit more important. “Where should I show her next?” Wooyoung had parked the car for the moment, talking to Yeosang in the small screen and ignoring your incredulous look. “I thought you had this all planned? We eat lunch and now you’re stumped?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes and slipping further into your seat. “I do have a lot to show you but it’s a question of what you’re ready for Goddess.” He winced as soon as you rounded on him. “I mean, shit-” You had grabbed Wooyoung’s shirt and pulled him closer, finding that you manhandled him very much, and most of the time it wasn’t even intentional; he just brought it out of you. He did also touch you just as much, and if it wasn’t for the work you had a sneaking suspicion he would fuck you.

Which you might let him. Not that you would tell him.

Yeosang sighed as you furrowed your brow even further at the pretty detective in your hands. “He doesn’t mean how you think, sweetheart. You might be a little… shocked at how much of center city is run by mafia families, that’s all.” You shook your head and let go of Wooyoung, if only because you were taken back by what Yeosang called you. You were pretty sure he wasn’t even aware he did so. “Don’t worry about it. I need to know all about this area, and the players. So get to it.” Wooyoung sighed and then spent the next hour or so pointing on the major alleys and corporate buildings with ties to the mafia. Yeosang chimed in, clarifying which ones they suspected definitely had a member of the Golden Circle running it but one particular one stood out to you: Park Pharmaceuticals.

That rang several alarms in your head once you realized why it stood out. It was the company Seonghwa’s parents ran. You did not once think that these men had actual ties to any of the mafia, yet now you couldn’t help the buds that were planted. The bud was pushed to the back of your mind momentarily, the two of you driving up to the north center. It was here Wooyoung showed you the specific places that money drops would be made or sometimes casual business talk. Not at the mall, no, but a little deeper into the district, where adult shops and hookah bars were. “These places are run by the Golden Circle, but that one is run by the Red Wolves-” He pointed over at a lingerie shop, “- never shop there alone. It might look run down but their security is top notch, Yeosang can’t get in without hacking and that could be dangerous.” Frowning, you glanced at the small screen where the techie was already avoiding your eyes. “Why is their security so difficult? Isn’t Yeosang like a genius?” Wooyoung nodded solemnly. “He is, but hacking that would give away who is hacking. Yeosang’s the only one who can hack his own code safely and they know that.” “Wooyoung!” Yeosang hissed out, sneering now at the man next to you. “I was a kid I didn’t- you make it seem like I work for them!”

You hadn’t thought of it until he said it, tingling more alarms in your head. Just how good was Yeosang then? If he was the best? If even as a kid his code was so good that no other could hack it safely? How much of their undercover, or work, was as a detective, a pursuer of justice? The things Wooyoung had already revealed had you second guessing what you knew about this unit, about how deep they went. Was all this necessary to stop organized crime in the city? Was it even making a difference? Unaware you were spacing out, you snapped back to reality when Yeosang spoke your name. Your eyes flickered to his on the screen, taking in the hint of concern there; he was getting easier to read. “We do a lot of things we aren’t proud of on this team, and before, but I swear we want nothing more than to stop the ceaseless violence and crime. The inhumanity of it.” He sounded so sincere, and for a moment you were swayed. But then why did it matter to Yeosang what you thought? Why did he feel the need to clarify? It only made you more suspicious.

Before, you had been worried that maybe they thought you were tied to one of the groups, that you were corrupt. You never once thought the possibility might be reversed. Seonghwa’s family company. Yeosang’s programs being in the hands of the criminals. Wooyoung’s childhood in the red light district.

Were they really just detectives? Really out here to serve and protect?

Would they kill you off if you got in the way?

Schooling your features as best you could, you smiled at Yeosang, almost sweetly. “I believe you. Now, why shouldn’t I go there? If it’s only the security that is tight?”

Yeosang swallowed, looking away almost as if ashamed but Wooyoung was the one who answered. “That’s one of the stores they use to scope out potential products for their sex trafficking ring. So, again, don’t go in there.”

Now what fate would be worse? Kidnapped by the red wolves for sex trafficking, or torture by your new unit. Gee, you were liking the former.

Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

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fluentmoviequoter · 2 months ago

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waves of feelings

Adam Karadec x fem!detective!reader request, brief angst to fluff, emotional vulnerability, 3.2k+ words

You don't realize that you like Karadec and he feels the same until Morgan points it out.

High Potential Masterlist | Directory | Request Rules

Karadec is pretty like the ocean during a thunderstorm. At first glance, it seems dark, dangerous, all choppy waves waiting to pull you under and sharp rocks. But, if you wait a moment, linger in the cool sand beneath the clouds, you can find peace in it. The grey clouds reflect off the dark blue water, painting the horizon in a mysterious yet mystifying collision of danger and growth, spouting from the same precipice.

“No, she’s gone,” someone says, drawing you from your daydream.

You blink, and the Major Crimes bullpen comes into focus as the image of sitting on a beach with Karadec fades to the back of your mind. Daphne and Oz are watching you, smiling as you try to catch up with the conversation.

“What?” you ask.

“Oz wanted to know if you had the security footage from the 7/11 across the street from our stabbing scene,” Daphne answers.

“Oh,” you murmur, shaking your mouse to wake your computer. “Yeah, I’ll forward it.”

“Thank you,” Oz says. “Care to share what you were thinking about?”

You shake your head as you focus on finding the video. “Just zoned out.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Daphne jokes. “Here I thought it was daydreaming.”

“Fine,” you sigh, smiling over your shoulder at her. “I was on a pretty beach, far from murder and mayhem, with nothing on my mind but the beauty in front of me.”

Daphne nods as she pulls herself back to her desk, reaching for a lollipop. “Better answer. Which beach? Bahamas?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Daphne sighs, then begins typing, drawn back into the real world. You’re lucky to have this team, you think. You can joke with each other and have fun, but you’re also there for each other when things turn serious. This job is hard enough as it is, and you can’t imagine doing it with anyone else.

“Shouldn’t Karadec be back by now?” Oz wonders.

“He’s with Morgan,” Daphne reminds him.

“Yeah, so however long it would take Karadec, double it and add half an hour,” you add.

“What’s the half hour for?” Morgan asks as she enters the bullpen.

“Fun facts, sightseeing, replacing the lollipop you stole,” Daphne lists.

“Hey, I apologized.”

“Doesn’t replace it,” you muse.

You spare a glance at Karadec, then turn back to your computer. He’s been different lately, and not just because of Morgan. Or maybe it is because of Morgan. Either way, you think he’s found something or someone that has made his life different. You’re happy for him, of course, but you can’t help but wonder why you don’t have that. Flexing your fingers over your keyboard, you remind yourself to focus, then open the video feed from a traffic camera less than a mile from the crime scene.

“Find anything?” Karadec asks, stopping beside your desk.

“The 7/11 had Monster energy drinks on sale,” you answer, leaning back to see him. “Four cans for $5.”

“Ooh,” Oz murmurs. “I might need to find a 7/11.”

“There are approximately 1,900 7/11 stores in California,” Morgan informs, perching on the corner of Karadec’s desk. “Or one store for every 21,000 people.”

“That’s a lot of stores that don’t even sell the best sour candy,” Daphne says.

“TOD was around 11, right?” you check. Karadec nods, so you continue, “Two cars drove by at a high rate of speed at 10:23 p.m., heading toward the scene. I’m trying to find them on other cameras to see if maybe they stopped around there.”

“Good work,” he applauds, nodding. “Let me know.”

“Sure,” you agree, releasing a breath when he steps away.

“Morgan and I found the store where he bought the knife,” Karadec says. "A hunting and fishing store in Rancho Cucamonga confirmed that the knife was purchased there. Apparently, they’re the only seller in the contiguous U.S., and it isn’t sold online in the states. Their legal team is prepping a list of buyers to send over.”

“Doesn’t narrow it down much,” Oz responds.

Karadec shakes his head, his gaze wandering to you. You’ve been distant lately, distracted. He'd ensure you were okay if he could find the right time or place. At the end of the day, when you all go home and the cases are supposed to be pushed out of your mind until you return to work or catch a break, he realizes that it isn’t his business. Karadec has enough going on in his life that it’s easy to forget to wonder about you when he actually has time to slow down and think. Like now, this stabbing case is familiar, almost too familiar, so when he looks away from you, that worry disappears, and he begins analyzing his own past for an idea of why he can’t seem to move past this stall point in the investigation.

“Still a John Doe?” Morgan inquires.

“Oh!” you exclaim, glancing at the clock above Karadec’s head. “I have to go. Meeting with the ME.”

“Need a second set of eyes?” Morgan offers.

“I’m okay,” you answer, gathering your things. “Thanks.”

After you leave, it’s as if a scale has been removed from Karadec’s eyes. Everything is a little clearer, the pieces of the puzzle fit together, as he opens the case file and turns his back to your desk.

While you’re gone, Karadec remembers why the case seems so familiar, why it’s bringing up memories of his field training days. He realizes that the sudden influx of nightmares must be related. Turning toward Oz and Daphne, Karadec prepares to tell them what he knows.

“My first year on the job, there was a series of stabbings,” Karadec begins. “Every victim was left on the side of the road with no wallet, no keys, and no clues as to how they got there.”

“A serial killer?” Daphne asks.

“The Rager,” Morgan says, snapping as she remembers. “They discovered the victims were run off the road and attacked by a man with intense road rage.”

“Right,” Karadec replies. “The speeding cars in the 7/11 video could indicate a similar situation.”

“Is the original killer still in prison?” Oz wonders. “If he got out, started driving again… could be the same guy.”

“He died,” Morgan answers. “Prison riot a few years ago, he was stabbed, passed away the next day. Right?”

Karadec nods, tapping his fingers on his thighs. In his nightmares, people he cares about turn up dead, killed in different ways by the criminals he’s locked up over the years. The vengefulness of wrongdoers has permanently marred his mind. If he had a chance to work some of his past cases again, he’d approach them differently. Maybe this is that chance.

Looking toward your desk, he asks, “Did the traffic cams show anything close to the scene?”

“Closest one was a half mile away, between the scene and the 24-hour grocery store east of it,” Oz replies.

“So, the other side of the 7/11. If the same car or cars passed it, we could get some more information.”

“How did the Rager get rid of the other cars?” Daphne asks.

“He came back for them,” Karadec answers. “Had a friend bring him back, claiming he was picking it up for a friend with a car repo business or something. It was a different time.”

“Exactly,” she agrees. “Today, you can’t just leave a car on the side of the road without someone taking notice.”

“Two killers,” you announce, returning from the ME’s office. You drop your bag in your chair and lean over your desk to pull up the video from the traffic camera. “I’d be willing to bet that we’ll see both cars driving by, going the speed limit, not riding each other’s tails, just going.”

The team gathers around your monitor as you press play, and it’s just as you suspected. You replay the clip, then pause it as the second car enters the frame.

“The bumper is damaged,” Morgan realizes. “They ran him off the road, killed him, then took his car.”

“Run the plates, Oz,” Karadec instructs. “Find our victim’s name and who own the killer’s car.”

“ME confirmed that the stab wounds were inflicted by two different people,” you say. “Likely one man and one female.”

“Nice work,” Karadec applauds.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Oz calls. “Killer’s car is registered to Rager’s nephew.”

Lying sideways across your bed, you let your head hang partially off the side, your hair loose and cascading toward the floor. You move your feet to the rhythm of your favorite song, playing on repeat as you try to clear your mind.

Across town, Karadec looks out of his window, spinning a glass between his hands as he pretends he can see the stars past the smog and city lights. The case is closed, so he could probably sleep without nightmares tonight, but his mind won’t quiet. It’s been years since he worked the Rager case, but he feels like he’s in the same place, back at the beginning, stuck in a continuous cycle.

He looks at the clock as your song ends, and you both sigh before you stand. Sleepless Los Angeles nights call for one of two things: finding someone to spend it with, or a midnight walk on the beach with a prayer you don’t get caught while it’s closed to the public.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you exclaim, pulled from your wonderings about why your life looks so much different than you imagined it would.

Karadec turns away from the ocean, facing you as your mind reminds you of what you’d thought about this morning.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he guesses, walking toward you.

“I’m surprised any of us can these days,” you muse, forcing yourself to look at the dark waves rather than Karadec.

“What’s your excuse? You closed the case, you should be taking a victory nap,” he teases.

You scoff, walking slowly beside him, dragging your feet through the loose sand. “Right, because solving a case is the key to turning your mind off. If that were true, you would never complain about sleep deprivation.”

“Those complaints are our right as detectives,” he argues.

“You… you might have a point there.”

Karadec shakes his head, a close-lipped smile gracing his features as the lights of a pier come into view.

“Come out here often?” he asks.

“Not as much as I used to,” you admit. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately – too much, maybe. The waves drown out some of those thoughts.”

Karadec nods. “Yeah, I’m sure you have a lot to think about.”

“What does that mean?” you inquire, laughing.

“I mean, look at you,” he says, gesturing toward you as if he answered your question.

“I’d prefer not to,” you reply.

“Seriously,” he continues. “You’re a good detective, got a stable job, a nice place to live, you’re pretty. Other than the hazards of our job, you’ve got it pretty good.”

“Yeah,” you agree facetiously. “If that were true, I’d be in a committed relationship, not considering adopting a cat just so I’m not completely alone between shifts.”

“Better to be alone that haunted by past arrests in your dreams,” Karadec murmurs.

You quiet, letting your smile fall as you nod. He’s right, of course, but there has to be a halfway point, where the good and the bad outweigh each other and everything is at the very least okay.

“What do you normally do on beach nights?” you inquire.

“Besides avoiding the patrol trucks?” Karadec counters.

“Obviously.”

“Usually go get coffee or something, stroll through a neighborhood.”

“Okay, midnight coffee is terrible for you, and I’m going to assume that you stroll through a moderately safe neighborhood.”

Karadec shakes his head. “Then what do you do? If my routine is so bad.”

You smile, pointing towards a break between beachfront buildings. “I’ll show you.”

Sitting across from Karadec, you lean back against the cracked red vinyl. The table between you is inlaid with newspapers and magazines from the 1900s, and Rhythm of the Rain by The Cascades plays on the jukebox by the door.

“I thought coffee was a no go,” Karadec says, opening the menu.

“We’re not here for coffee,” you argue.

“Hey, sweetie,” the singular waitress working at midnight greets. “The usual?”

“Yes, please,” you reply, smiling kindly. “And the same for my friend.”

“You got it.”

“The usual,” Karadec repeats. “My midnight go-to is unhealthy, but you can go to a diner every night.”

“You’re very judgy for someone getting a free treat,” you muse.

“I can pay for it.”

You wave, glancing out the window as you fold a napkin on the table.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Karadec invites.

“Not at all. Do you?”

He shakes his head, and you sit in comfortable silence until two bowls piled high with vanilla ice cream are delivered to your table. A long plate with various toppings accompanies them, and you smile as you say, “Thank you.”

“Midnight sundaes,” Karadec says, his brows lifted. “Much healthier than coffee.”

“You’re just jealous I thought of it first.”

It’s nearing two a.m. when you exit the diner and stop out into the parking lot.

“I’m a mile that way,” Karadec says, pointing straight ahead.

“I’m a mile that way,” you reply, pointing over your shoulder.

“Come on,” he invites as he begins walking.

“I just said I’m the other way,” you argue, following him anyway.

“It’s a mile regardless. This way, you don’t have to walk alone at this hour, and I’ll drive you back.”

“But I was walking alone before I found you,” you point out.

“Which is terrible for you,” Karadec deadpans, drawing a chuckle from you as you jog to catch up with him.

The following morning at work, which is only a few hours after you left Karadec, you feel oddly rested. You’ve still got a lot on your mind, but it doesn’t seem as pressing anymore, and you can see where you’ve succeeded in life. Like midnight sundaes, a brilliant advancement from your college years. Karadec comes into the bullpen while you’re scrolling on your phone, and he’s clearly thinking too, not greeting his team as he usually does.

“Are we case-free right now?” Morgan asks. “This is weird, right?”

“It’s never long,” Oz assures her. “We’ll get a call soon.”

“While we’re waiting,” Daphne begins, smiling at you.

You lock your phone and pinch your brows as you say, “I don’t like your tone, Daph.”

Karadec unlocks his computer, then turns his chair, looking between you and Daphne.

“I want to set you up with this guy I know,” she explains. “You’re single, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer slowly. “But I don’t think I want to date anyone right now. I… It’s not the right time.”

“Unless it’s Karadec, of course,” Morgan interjects.

Your eyes widen as you look at her, and Karadec clenches his jaw so hard you can see the muscle in it tighten.

“What?” you whisper.

“You like Karadec,” Morgan says, lifting her hands. “He likes you. You like each other.”

You look away from Morgan, your eyes bouncing left to right as you think. You’ve been evaluating every area of your life over the last few weeks, picking apart your feelings to find what was missing. It makes sense now that you somehow brought Karadec into every musing. When you thought about needing a break, Karadec was on the beach with you, a lighthouse in your storm. When you considered your career success, Karadec was solving cases beside you. It’s so obvious now that Morgan has said it. You like Karadec.

Karadec watches you as you think. He’s more composed following Morgan’s intrusion into your private life, thinking about all the instances in which you invaded his thoughts. After a nightmare, he’d open your text thread, type a message, then delete it, opting to sit with himself and feel hopeless until the sun rose on a new day. Even last night, you’d been on his mind as he stared out at the ocean and asked himself if he was doing a good enough job as head detective.

“I’m going to take this as a no,” Daphne drawls, sitting back in her seat.

“Morgan, I think you broke them,” Oz chides, looking between you and Karadec.

“Gillory,” Karadec begins. “We’re at work. There is never a time or a place for you to interject yourself into your personal lives.”

“Got it,” she replies, nodding. “I won’t be so blunt next time.”

“I just said-" Karadec cuts himself off with a sigh, closing his eyes as he shakes his head.

“I- I’ll be right back,” you murmur before you stand. In the privacy of the bathroom, you look at yourself in the mirror. You’d convinced yourself that Karadec would never like you, and it didn’t take much. Then, you let yourself believe that your entire life was running off the rails. Maybe if you’d just admitted that you had feelings for Karadec, you could have solved cases faster because you wouldn’t have been so easily distracted.

Rushing back into the bullpen, you don’t notice how Oz, Daphne, and Morgan look up, wide-eyed and ready to eavesdrop on whatever moment you and Karadec are about to have.

“We need another case,” you declare. “I think we can crack a cold case.”

Karadec watches you for several breaths, then asks, “Did you have coffee while you were gone?”

“No, that’s your thing,” you reply, smiling. “Tell me I’m wrong. This team can do it, and we don’t have anything else to do today.”

Karadec can’t interrupt you to say that Morgan was right, not with the others watching, so he smiles and agrees. Morgan already has a cold case in mind, and the board is filled with details as you talk everything over, sparing glances at Karadec every chance you get.

You knock on Karadec’s door long after the sun goes down and a cold case has been reopened, solved, and closed. In your cooler, you’ve brought ice cream, your favorite sundae toppings, and everything you saw Karadec use last night. You need to talk, need to clear the air, and address what Morgan pointed out today, but there’s no movement inside, no answer to your knocks. Letting your smile fall, you wonder if Morgan was wrong. The thought doesn’t linger long before the elevator opens and someone clears their throat behind you.

Turning, your smile returns when you see Karadec lift a grocery store bag.

“You weren’t at home,” he says.

“You weren’t either,” you reply softly. “I, uh, I brought sundaes.”

“I brought coffee.”

You scrunch your nose, and he steps past you to unlock the door. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

He pushes the door open, and you step inside, looking around as he sets his bag on the counter. Karadec takes the cooler from your hand, pulls the ice cream out, and sets it in the freezer.

“Morgan was right,” you blurt out. “About me liking you. I guess I didn't realize because I was caught up in the waves of my own feelings - trying to keep them from pulling me under.”

Karadec pushes the freezer closed before he returns to your side. Standing in front of you with only inches separating you, he raises his hand to your face. His touch is warm and gentle, his hand strong and calloused.

“I get it. Don’t tell her, but Morgan was right about more than you liking me,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you as he kicks the front door closed.

#adam karadec #adam karadec x reader #adam karadec x fem!reader #adam karadec fic #adam karadec fluff #adam karadec oneshot #high potential #high potential x reader #high potential abc #hanna writes✯#fem!reader #requests #🍎 anon

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naeverse · 9 months ago

Text

You're Not My Husband

~Ｖｉｃｅ＃２~

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟐: 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

(𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝟔-𝟏𝟐)

----

𝘓𝘶𝘴𝘵:

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳.

𝘓𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘴.

"𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘰" - 𝘓𝘢𝘩 𝘗𝘢𝘵

“𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴” - 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰

Art was found on Pinterest. All credit goes to the original artists, designers, and photographers.

🕷️staring: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

🩸preview:

Placing in the brown contacts that he’d made last minute to hide his red irises and removing the black square frames from his sleeping, pathetic variant, he gazed at himself in the car mirror. There, he found himself—but not truly him.

Just a version of Miguel you would believe in…

A weaker variant of himself, the Spider Society Leader was willing to be for you.

🖤summary: After the tragic death of his daughter, Gabriella, Miguel is consumed by emptiness and darkness. Desperate for solace, he discovers you—a woman from another dimension—trapped in an unfulfilling marriage with a lesser version of himself. Seeing you reignites something in him, and he knows he must have you, no matter the consequences.

❤️tw/cw: Big Dick Miguel, Biting, Body worship, Claiming, Cock bulge, Desperation, Deception, Doppelganger, Dirty Talk, Human Miguel O’Hara, Identity Play, Imposter Fantasty, Fantasies, Fantasizing, Fingering, Marking, Multiple Orgasms, Rough sex, Spiderman-2099, Tits Worship

🕸️Pet names: Amor (Love), Bebé (Baby), Cariño (Darling), Esposa (Wife), Hiel (Honey), Mi amor (My love)

🩸Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🕷️ Word Count: 8k words

“Miguel…”

The enchanted voice called out to him like a siren beckoning from the depths. The image of the magnificent woman before him—you—appeared, your hair blowing gently in the wind, sunlight illuminating each strand, making you look even more ethereal. Your skin glistened, and your eyes sparkled with a warmth that made his heart clench.

You were perfect, almost unreal, yet so tangible it ached.

“Miguel.” You smiled, that same smile that could quell his hot temper, soothe the desire in him that had been lost since his daughter passed, and unravel the most intricate parts of him, leaving him bare and vulnerable for the first time in a long while.

His chest tightened, his heart pounded, and he knew without a doubt that this woman was meant to be his…

“Miguel!?”

The voice called out again, but it wasn’t your soft, hypnotizing one. No, it was distant, sharp, snapping him back to reality.

Miguel flinched, his senses kicking in as he stood inside his office, his muscular body rigid under his blue and red holographic suit. His red eyes focused on Jessica Owens, his right-hand, standing in front of him, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised in both confusion and frustration.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” she asked, peering at him through her shades, evidently noticing his distraction.

Clearing his throat and blinking his dazed eyes, Miguel tried to compose himself, his thoughts still lingering on you, trapped in the endless loops of desire that seemed to consume him. Running a tired hand through his unkempt, dark curls, he released a deep sigh. “Mis disculpas… could you repeat that?”

Jessica eyed him warily, sighing. “I was talking about the anomaly in Earth-274 that LYLA detected,” she stated, her gloved fingers moving along the gizmo on her wrist, displaying the rampaging Green Goblin anomaly. “He’s been creating chaos since his arrival. We need to capture him and send him back to his dimension before he causes any more damage.”

Miguel hummed in acknowledgment, though his attention was barely on her words, simply appearing to listen. His mind was still reeling, the image of you seared into his consciousness.

He turned his back to Jessica, fingers moving across the neon-yellow keyboards of his monitors in a distracted manner. Holographic screens beamed brightly, displaying surveillance data, Spider Society operations, and loose anomalies like the Green Goblin variant… but hidden behind the chaos was your world.

Earth-956.

Jessica’s voice became background noise as he stared at the monitors. His mind wandered back to you again—to your laughter, the way your eyes shimmered when you smiled, the hypnotizing, graceful way your body moved…

It drove him mad.

He couldn’t keep doing this.

Jessica’s gaze lingered on him, and Miguel knew his right-hand could sense something was off.

And she would be correct—Miguel was anything but okay.

His appearance had grown disheveled. His tan skin had become pale and gaunt from lack of sleep. The usual sharpness in his red eyes had dulled, haunted by sleepless nights replaced with lust and longing. His dark brown hair was messy, the bags beneath his eyes deeper than ever.

But, as always, he waved off her concern.

“I’m fine, Jess,” he growled, his voice tight. “I’ll send you and a team to handle the anomaly on Earth-274. I don’t want any mistakes. Entiende?”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, though suspicion and worry were evident in her voice. Miguel could hear her hesitance—the opening and closing of her mouth to speak—before she ultimately left, her footsteps fading into the distance.

The second the doors to his office sealed shut, Miguel let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him.

The buzz of electronics and the hum of Nueva York outside his window barely registered as he stood there, his chest heaving. All he could think about was you, the woman from Earth-956.

The one thing that kept him tethered to this madness.

“Ay, coño… I can’t keep doing this,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, scolding himself as he fought the ache coursing through his body. His fingers itched, craving just one more glimpse of you before he denied himself completely. Just one more moment of pretending…

“One last time.” He told himself the same lie every time, but the need was too strong. It clawed at him, consumed him. His hands moved on their own, bringing up the hidden screen, and there you were—like a light in the darkness.

“Come on, my love, you have work,” your voice floated through the feed, gentle and warm. He watched you walk across your bedroom, your hair falling perfectly, your skin glowing in the morning light. The sight of you always made Miguel’s heart leap into his throat.

The Spider Society Leader had discovered you by mistake while scanning the multiverse for anomalies, and from the moment he saw you, he knew he had to have you.

He adored the way you laughed, the way you moved, the way you said his name—even though it wasn’t him you were addressing.

“Hmm… yes, mi amor. I’m getting up,” came the familiar, sleepy voice of Miguel’s own. The one who looked like him but lacked everything that made him, him. The sight made his blood boil.

It was the other Miguel—the human version of himself from Earth-956. The weak, pathetic variant that didn’t deserve you. Miguel watched as this powerless copy of himself, with glasses and a smaller physique, shuffled into the frame, hugging you from behind.

Miguel’s red eyes narrowed in anger, growling in envy when Earth-956 Miguel nuzzled your neck, his hands stroking your stomach. The human Miguel pressed his cheek to yours, his voice low and apologetic. “Are you angry with me, mi amor?”

“No, of course not.” You hastily replied, but there was a sadness in your voice that Miguel could hear clearly, even if your husband couldn’t. “I just… I miss you.”

The human Miguel kissed the side of your neck, his affection weak and empty.

Pathetic.

“It’s just another project. I promise, I'll try not to work late.”

‘La perra débil siempre dice esto.’ Miguel thought, the rage in him bubbling up. This other version of himself was throwing away everything that mattered—you—and for what? More time at Alchemax? More time busying himself with chemicals and useless projects? More nights away from his precious wife?

It made Miguel sick.

You pulled away from your husband, the hurt in your eyes piercing Miguel’s heart. “I just want my husband back,” you said, your voice brittle as you walked out of the bedroom. The human Miguel didn’t chase after you. He simply stood there, devastated, watching your retreating form before getting dressed for work.

Miguel clenched his fists, his sharp talons digging into his palms, enough to draw blood. Hearing the sadness and longing in your voice tore him apart. You needed someone to comfort you, to love you, to give you the affection you deserved.

Something Miguel desired in you just as deeply…

Earth-956 Miguel didn’t deserve you. He didn’t know how to love you, how to keep you.

But Miguel O’Hara did…

You wanted a child, and Earth-956 Miguel couldn’t even give you that. All his time was spent in the labs, toiling away at meaningless work while you were left alone at home.

It made Miguel furious. Angry growls slipped past his lips at the sight of his weaker counterpart, so blissfully ignorant of what he had.

Miguel’s mind raced. The thought had been gnawing at him for weeks, the seed of an insane idea growing until it consumed him entirely.

He could take Earth-956 Miguel’s place. Just for a day—even a moment—and he could give you the child you wanted, the life you deserved. It would be so easy—pose as him, slip into your world while the weakling wasted his life at Alchemax.

He would make you his, and you wouldn’t even know the difference…

Miguel O'Hara knew the risks. He’d attempted happiness before, only for the universe to deny him, taking his daughter and leaving him colder and emptier.

So yes, he was afraid…

But the sound of your weeping from the guest bedroom, and the sight of Earth-956 Miguel leaving the house, the door locking behind him, only solidified Miguel’s decision.

“I’m coming, mi amor,” he whispered to your sobbing form on the screen, his fingers reaching out to the holographic display, aching to console you, to erase all the sadness from your life—knowing he would, soon enough.

“I’m coming.”

You grumbled, picking up another of Miguel's many shoes left astray in front of the bed. ‘Can’t you clean up after yourself?’ you thought, understanding your husband’s passion for his work, but growing frustrated with his workaholic tendencies.

‘It always leads to this,’ you sighed, carrying the shoes to the foyer, where you neatly placed them on the shoe rack.

Dusting off your hands, you glanced around the home you and your husband shared. It was spacious, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, dining room, living room, and even a study for Miguel—though he hardly used it.

Your eyes drifted over the large portraits hanging on the walls of the foyer, giving anyone who visited the impression of a happy, loving couple.

But that wasn’t your reality anymore…

The huge grins, loving gazes, and passionate kisses captured in the photos were like scenes from a forgotten fairy tale. Now, you could only hope your husband makes it home for supper and wouldn’t fall asleep at the dining table.

Your heart sank at the revelation. What happened? Where did things go wrong between you and your beloved?

Is he falling out of love?

Has he found someone new?

Is he…

Cheating?

A tremor of fear ran through your body, making you ache.

But deep down, you knew the cause of your marriage’s decline.

A child…

Ever since you and Miguel married two years ago, you both dreamed of having a baby—someone to love and cherish, knowing it was the embodiment of your shared adoration.

But no matter how hard you tried, it never happened.

After countless failed attempts and doctors offering no explanations or solutions, Miguel eventually gave up on the idea of having a child. His voice was filled with defeat when he said it was impossible. He couldn’t even meet your eyes that night.

Devastation didn’t begin to cover how you felt.

Since then, it seemed as if Miguel had given up on everything, including your relationship.

Now, your once passionate marriage felt like a hollow shell.

Fighting back tears, you turned away from the photos that once told the story of your happy marriage and headed into the living room. Settling onto the sofa, you wiped your wet cheeks, trying to erase the traces of your sorrow.

“Television always helps,” you muttered, forcing a small smile as you pulled a throw blanket over your body, dressed comfortably in a matching shirt and shorts.

You grabbed the remote and quickly found a show you liked, hoping it would distract you from the heaviness in your chest. For a while, it worked—laughter bubbled out of you, the show helping you forget your pain, even if just for a moment.

But then a single tear slipped down your cheek, betraying the sadness still lurking beneath.

“Aww, man, was that seriously the last episode?” you sighed, realizing you’d soon run out of shows if you kept binge-watching like this.

Reaching for your glass and the wine bottle, you frowned when both were empty. You’d only just opened that bottle, hadn’t you?

You gave the bottle a little shake, hearing the last few drops swish inside. The desire for just more wine, for that brief numbness, tugged at you.

Glancing at your phone, you saw the time: 7:10 p.m.

“Gosh, Miguel wouldn’t like me going out this late—especially just for wine,” you pouted. But the craving was strong.

“It’ll just be a quick run,” you began to reason, but your thoughts were interrupted by a sound. ‘Did the door just open?’ You couldn’t believe it—Miguel never came home this early.

“Cariño, I’m home!”

The familiar voice of your husband filled the house, confirming your suspicions. Hastily, you stood and moved to the foyer, bare feet padding against the floor until you came face-to-face with him.

In utter disbelief, you watched as he took off his black oxfords, placing them neatly on the shoe stand. “I... I thought you were working late today,” you uttered as he turned to face you.

The trench coat, beige collared shirt, and brown slacks he wore seemed to hug him tightly, accentuating muscles that appeared more defined than usual. You pushed aside the hidden admiration for your husband’s new physique and walked over to him.

“Have you been working out lately? You seem… bigger,” you remarked, reaching to help him remove his coat, carefully sliding it off his broad shoulders before hanging it up.

Oddly, Miguel didn’t respond. He just stared at you, silent.

Raising an eyebrow, you glanced over your shoulder at him, worry creeping into your features. “Miggy… are you okay?”

Miguel O’Hara watched you—the woman he’d dreamed of, the one he’d longed to be close to—as you moved around him, touching him, so unaware of the truth.

Miguel had followed his plan perfectly. He’d completed his tasks at the Spider Society, disabled LYLA with a fake technical error, and entered Earth-956.

Tracking down his human counterpart at Alchemax had been almost too easy. Creeping through the lab’s vents and knocking the weakling out with a blow to the head felt strangely satisfying.

After undressing his unconscious self and stealing his car, Miguel was able to escape the place unnoticed and haul the man into the backseat.

As he headed to his human variant's home, where you sat possibly watching television like you always did, Miguel felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

‘Would I be able to pull this off?’

‘What if she finds out and I scare her shitless?’

‘What if I lose her like Gabriella?’

Miguel’s mind raced, the last thought a hard pill to swallow. His large hands gripped the steering wheel, feeling the leather buckle under his strength. “Whatever happens, I did it for her happiness—my happiness…” he whispered, pulling into the driveway of his human self’s home.

For the first time in a long while, Miguel felt that familiar flutter in his chest. Amidst the butterflies of nervousness and fear in his stomach was one of anticipation.

Just a version of Miguel you would believe in…

A weaker variant of himself, the Spider Society Leader was willing to be for you.

And for you, he stood in the foyer, gazing at the woman he knew like the back of his hand, yet he was an imposter inside your own home.

Shaking off the stupor, he cleared his throat. “Sí, I am, mi amor,” he assured fondly, giving you a smile that showed none of his fanged teeth.

You slowly nodded, believing it was the stress, returning to smoothing out his coat on the stand. “Well, there are leftovers in the fridge. You’ll have to warm them up—” A gasp escaped you when his large arms engulfed your center, hugging you from behind.

His body heat overwhelmed you, your husband’s hardened chest pressing into your backside, allowing you to feel every ridge of his abs and pecs—a musculature that you never knew was so defined. “M-Miggy…?” You called him in confusion, but you didn’t deny how your face filled with warmth at his touch.

You leaned back into his chest, your eyes fluttering closed as his cologne of sandalwood mixed with spicy undertones filled your senses, his scent always making you melt. The way he embraced you felt different from this morning, making you feel cherished and loved for the first time in a long while.

“Hmm?” Miguel hummed in response, running his broad nose under your jaw and along your neck, inhaling you deeply. You smelled just as sweet and felt as soft as he thought you’d be.

His rough hands stroked your stomach through your shirt and circled your navel with his thumb. “How have you been today, mi amor?” he purred into your ear. “I know I don’t ask a lot, and I’m sorry.” Miguel muttered, giving your smaller body a gentle squeeze.

Your heart clenched at his question of concern, as he’d never asked before. “I’ve been…fine,” you lied, as usual, never wanting to worry him. Placing a hand over his, you traced the ridges of his knuckles and interlocked your fingers with his, not remembering the last time he touched and explored your body.

A disapproving growl, almost animalistic, rang from his chest at your answer. “No me mientas, bebé. Be honest with me,” he scolded softly, his rough hand engulfing yours, running his thumb over your knuckles.

You bit your lip, unsure about being honest. However, he felt different today…

More caring, affectionate, loving…

Just like he was all those years ago.

“I…I felt…terrible,” you confessed aloud for the first time in years. “I-I was looking at our…pictures, and I couldn’t help wondering what happened to us, Miggy?” You asked, pulling out of his hold to turn to face him.

Keeping your hands in his, you gazed up at your husband, your eyes taking in his tired features and, despite attempting to be neat, messy hair. “Did I upset you? Anger you? You desperately asked. “Do you not…love me anymore because I was unable to grant you what you…wanted?” A broken sob you’d been trying to hold back tumbled free, followed by streams of tears.

At the sight of your tears, Miguel felt utterly devastated, each sob from your pretty lips bringing him immense pain he had never experienced before. He immediately sought to silence your cries. ‘Bebé, what you’re saying is tontería. It’s not true,’ he said softly, cupping your face and swiftly wiping the endless tears from your cheeks.”

You shook your head, crying in his hold. “H-how? You've done n-nothing but avoid me, Miggy,” you explained, your cheeks rosy and your eyes glossy. “You constantly stay at work, miss dinner, and I know y-you try, but at times I feel like…I feel like you do not love me. Not like you used to.”

Miguel watched with a mixture of sorrow and anger at the byproduct of his pathetic human self's actions. ‘How dare he hurt you so much? How dare he cause you to shed a single tear?’ he thought, wanting to erase your sadness, starting with removing these delusions.

Earth-956 Miguel probably avoided you, stayed at work, and missed supper—hell, the bastard possibly didn’t love you anymore—but Miguel O'Hara did.

He fell in love the moment he saw you…

Without warning, he pulled you close, his lips claiming yours in an instant, quieting your worries and cries.

He swallowed the surprised gasp you gave him as his hands cradled your face in his palms. Miguel wanted to cease your doubts about not being loved and to show you exactly who you belonged to.

Your eyes widened, your brain unable to keep up. ‘Miguel… is kissing me!?’ You were shocked.

It had been so long since your husband showed his adoration, let alone kissed you like you were his. Your heart fluttered, hands tentatively moving to grip his beige shirt, bunching the fabric at his hips to tug him closer.

This moment felt so surreal; just this morning, you had been arguing like always. Now he was showering you with the love you had been craving for years.

“Miguel…” You whimpered, your much smaller fingers clawing at him, from his biceps to his hips and chest in desperation. The sensation made him harden under his slacks.

Suddenly, as if a switch had flipped, the restraint Miguel had melted away. He grunted against your lips, pushing you against the wall with enough force to send your couple portraits rattling. Like a beast, Miguel was atop you once more, his massive body trapping you beneath him.

“Careful!” You giggled, but were instantly silenced by another bruising kiss.

Your husband’s kisses were deep and demanding, as if he were trying to memorize the feel and taste of you. His hands explored your body with a possessiveness that made your head spin, gripping your ass and sliding up your back as if he couldn’t get enough.

Every touch, every kiss was rougher and more insistent, much different from the loving and gentle intimacy he had shown you in the past.

A breathy moan escaped your parted lips when Miguel’s large hands engulfed your breasts, kneading them roughly through the fabric of your shirt. “Goodness, Miguel… I didn’t expect you to be like this.” You panted between sloppy kisses, believing it was the lack of intimacy that was causing this new and more passionate display of affection.

Miguel simply grunted in response, the Spider Society Leader completely blinded by lust. One hand left your chest to grip a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back to expose your bare neck. At the sight of your untouched skin, Miguel practically salivated, attacking your throat.

You gasped, biting your lip when he pulled your hair. The slight sting on your scalp was a foreign sensation that you instantly adored. Humming in bliss, his lips along your throat made your head foggy, as if he were kissing your very soul.

“I’ve been neglecting you, babygirl, haven’t I?” Miguel asked, trailing his fangs along your skin, feeling you tremble at the sensation. The sweet nod you gave made his heart clench, fueling his desire further. “Let me make it up to you, cariño.” He purred, nipping harshly at your neck, leaving red love bites that he lapped at to soothe you, his discretion forgotten.

You whimpered, unsure of what you were feeling in your overwhelming state. “M-Miguel…” His name was all you could breathe, your nipples hardening under your shirt, clearly displaying your lack of a bra underneath.

Miguel’s mouth halted, ready to add another mark to your precious neck when his eyes snapped down to your chest, noticing the peaks. He smirked, pulling away to meet your hooded gaze. “Mi chica traviesa, traviesa,” he cooed, marveling at your breasts. “It seems you want me more than I believed.” Miguel teased, cupping your breasts and thumbing the hardened nubs.

You moaned, his touch sending tingles throughout your being. Gazing into the eyes of your husband, you discovered pure ravenous need staring back at you—a look you had never seen before, but it made you wetter than ever.

“I do; I’ve wanted you for a while, my love.” You genuinely told him, sticking to the agreement of honesty between the two of you.

However, your eyes widened, and your body warmed in pleasure as Miguel swiped his tongue along your cheek, coating your face with his warm saliva.

“Fuck, cariño, I’m one lucky bastard—” he rambled, kissing your lips, cheeks, neck, and collarbone, seeming to be everywhere at once, his hands following suit. “To have such an incredible, loving, and sexy wife.” Miguel muttered, leaving your breasts unattended as his hand descended lower, causing your heart to thump loudly in your chest.

“Joder, cómo tuvo tanta suerte?” he hissed, your husband’s words falling on deaf ears when his hand cupped your sex, making you squeak in surprise.

Moaning, he began to rub you, his palm pressing into your throbbing bud. “Hmm, I love you so much, esposa. Do you love me?” Miguel asked, his deep voice airy and full of lust, seeking your love.

Your mind was jumbled, unable to think of an answer when your touch-starved body was finally getting the attention it craved. Frantically, you nodded, grinding on his palm. “Y-Yes, always.”

The Spider Society Leader cursed under his breath, your shared adoration being what he had always wanted to hear from your pretty lips.

‘Shit, I can’t wait any longer,’ he thought, feeling the drool trickling down his jaw, his cock leaking precum inside his slacks, and talons threatening to extend from the tips of his fingers if he didn’t have you.

Right at this very moment…

“I need you, mi amor,” Miguel growled in a strained voice, a yelp escaping you when he hoisted you up in his arms.

Your legs clung to his waist, arms wrapping around his neck as his large hands grasped the underside of your thighs. A blush sprouted on your cheeks at the feeling of his erection throbbing against your core.

For the first time, when you looked at your husband, he appeared alive and energetic; even his skin seemed to be glowing.

You didn't know what had happened today at work to cause such a change, but nonetheless, you were beyond thankful for it.

Giving him a nod, you claimed his lips once more, needing him just the same.

Miguel smirked against your mouth, effortlessly carrying you through the dim hallways of your home.

His legs wandered the place like he always lived there, climbing the stairs with ease while satisfying your craving for his lips. Miguel devoured your pretty mouth, kissing and suckling your eager tongue that yearned for him as he did for you.

Upon reaching your shared bedroom, Miguel kicked open the door, not hesitating to toss you onto the bed.

You laughed as you landed on the mattress, feeling it sink under your weight. Laying on your back, your legs sprawled beneath you, your eyes peered teasingly up at your spouse. “You are being so rough… I kinda like it,” you told him with a smirk.

Miguel snickered, a hidden excitement in the back of his mind at the knowledge of not truly being your husband, yet you were enjoying everything he was giving you.

“Good,” the Spider Society Leader purred, removing his shirt with an effortless pull at the lapels of his button-up. Buttons flew, and fabric tore, but Miguel couldn’t be bothered; his eyes were trained on you.

His loving wife.

Your eyes widened, every moment with your spouse surprising you. “Miguel, your shirt—” Your words fell flat, practically choking when he revealed himself to you.

Removing the remnants of the destroyed button-up, your husband’s chest was on full display.

With an agape mouth and gaze of astonishment, you gawked at his defined pectoral muscles, the evident 8-pack that flexed with every movement, the pulsating veins from his burly arms, and lastly, how hairy your husband was.

Dark brown coarse hair covered his chest and descended from his navel, under his slacks, practically making you drool.

The amount of body hair was unlike him, knowing he was always about being clean and neat, but tonight, he had been different ever since he stepped through the door.

Perhaps this new him was everything you had ever wanted…

“I see someone has been… making some changes without my knowledge,” you said, trying to hide how arousing his rugged appearance was. “You've also been working out, it seems.”

Miguel raised a thick eyebrow, glancing down at his hairy body that was full of rippling muscles and sinewy limbs that coursed with the power from his mutation.

He wanted to mentally curse, knowing his muscular body type was too extreme compared to Earth-956 Miguel’s, your rightful husband.

But when the Spider Society Leader met your gaze of desire and saw how you bit your lip, it brought the beast out of him once more.

Abruptly, Miguel joined you on the bed, his body atop yours. He kissed along your neck and lapped at the previous markings he had given you. “Yeah, you like?” Miguel hummed.

You nodded, cupping his face. “Yes, but not as much as this,” you muttered, running a hand along his hairy chest, feeling the coarse strands tickle your palm.

I like this new you,” you whispered, meeting his glasses-covered eyes. “You should show this side of yourself more, hm?” Teasingly, you added, giggling as you reached out to remove his black square glasses and set them on your nightstand, eager to see your husband’s sexy features without the frames.

Miguel’s heart skipped a beat at your words, falling in love with you even more.

He pulled you into a searing kiss, groaning into your mouth and finding himself incapable of getting used to the sweet taste of you. His hands moved down to grab the front of your shirt; with ease, he tore open the fabric, releasing your bare breasts.

Your reaction was cut short as your husband descended down your body, sucking a tit into his mouth.

Whimpering, your fingers gripped the strands of his dark brown hair, tugging and holding him close. A nip from his very sharp teeth on your hardened peaks made you yelp

Miguel chuckled, swirling his tongue around your aching nipple, calming the sting from his bite. “You’re even more perfect than I’ve imagined,” he muttered against your skin, pulling away to gaze down at you.

Your spouse’s hands hastily began to unbuckle and unzip his pants to free his throbbing cock. “Undress, mi amor.” His words caused your heart to skip a beat. “Show me the pussy that belongs to me.”

Your chest heaved, your thighs sticky with arousal that ached for your husband. Looking up at him, you couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of him being yours to love for the rest of your life— a thought you believed had faded years ago but was restored on this very night.

Matching his pace, you swiftly tugged your shirt off, freeing your bare breasts, and shimmied off your shorts to expose your legs and clothed pussy.

The Spider Society Leader groaned, your arousal filling his nose. “Fuck, you smell so good, bonita.” He purred, removing his boxers and pants to finally relieve his throbbing cock.

Your gaze traveled over your husband’s shaft, noticing it was surrounded by a bush of pelvic hair and seemed bigger and thicker than you remembered, believing it was due to his arousal. You bit your lip at the effect you had on him. “Gosh, I missed you so much,” you told him lovingly, spreading your legs and revealing your soaked panties.

A groan escaped Miguel at your words, precum dripping down his length at the sight of you.

He felt a burning in his chest to allow his true self to break free, to ravage you like the beast he knew he was and grant you what you desired.

And so he did...

His red eyes, concealed by brown contact lenses, darkened, and a growl escaped him. “You missed me, cariño?” he asked with a dark smirk, not bothering to hide his fangs that dripped with venom. “Then show me,” Miguel chuckled, stepping back to allow you room to obey his command. “On all fours. Ass up.”

Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment; the authoritative tone in his voice was unlike anything you’d ever heard from your husband. You watched with hidden interest as he stood behind you, stroking his large shaft, precum dripping onto the floor. Miguel’s eyes were narrowed, his face stern while waiting for you to comply.

You might not have experienced this new act of intimacy your spouse was showing you, but you didn’t want to disappoint him—not when you were so close to having him be yours again…

Moving into position, you turned to balance on your hands and knees, your rear facing your husband as he requested. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you at his look of approval. “Good girl,” he praised, biting your lip when the bed creaked behind you, his body heat engulfing you from behind.

Miguel eyed his sweet wife, running his large palm along the rear of the woman that was now his. He knew that once he claimed you, you’d never go back to the pathetic version of him known as your husband.

The Spider Society Leader ran a thumb along your clothed core, feeling it quiver under his digit. “Hmm... this pussy is begging for me, isn’t it, amor?” he laughed, sliding your panties to the side to reveal your dripping entrance.

Your breath hitched as the cold air brushed against your exposed intimate area. “Yes, Miguel, please. I need you,” you begged, arching your back and pushing your rear further towards him.

Miguel felt his heart skip a beat, the sight in front of him being every image that filled his mind when he jerked off at night. The pleading that left your pretty lips for him was what he fantasized about while fighting anomalies. This sight before him was everything he’d ever wanted, and now it was actually happening.

‘Fuck, this has to be a dream,’ he thought, even when he knew it wasn’t. “Please, Miggy. Don’t make me wait any longer,” you begged once more, your words going straight to his cock.

“Mierda,” he cursed, lining himself up and sinking into your delectable hole. Miguel growled, filling you instantly. “Joder, estás tan apretado, cariño,” he groaned, unable to wait as he slowly pulled out and slammed back in.

You moaned, your back arching at how good your husband made you feel. “Miguel! G-Goodness!” you cried out, not remembering the last time you both were intimate in this manner.

However, this time felt different—more intense, more desperate.

Your voice reached a pitch you never thought possible as his shaft penetrated deeper inside you, his hands gripping your arms and pinning them to your back.Your ass was raised higher for your spouse, your face pressed into the mattress as inaudible moans escaped you with the change of angle.

The dominance he showcased was so unlike what you were used to, but it was something you instantly enjoyed.

Miguel bit his lip harshly, his grip tightening around your arms. “You like that? Like how my cock feels inside you, miel?” he asked, giving your ass a smack at your lack of response. The frantic nods and exclamations of agreement from your gaping mouth only increased Miguel’s effort.

His hips snapped, thrusting into his sweet wife. The clenching of your pussy around his shaft was intoxicating, his cock plunging into your soppy cunt.

The sounds of wet skin and your gushing pussy bounced off the walls of your bedroom along with your combined cries.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you chanted, nails digging into your palms, your eyes rolling when the tip of your husband’s cock kissed your cervix. “Gosh! M-M-Miggy, I-I have to cum!” you choked, saliva trickling down your mouth, burying your face into the bed to muffle your cries.

With a scream, your release crashed over you. Your body thrashed and quivered, your eyes squeezing shut as the intense tingles of pleasure coursed through you.

Your juices spilled down your trembling thighs as you felt your husband pull away, leaving you to catch your breath.

Breathing heavily, your body remained kneeled, back arched and face resting on the bed, your messy hair shielding your features. The aftershocks of your orgasm were more extreme than you’d ever felt before and it left you in utter ecstasy.

Feeling pleased, you looked over your shoulder at your husband through your disheveled strands to find a surprising sight.

He was still...

energetic.

“Do you still want more, my love?” you asked breathlessly in sheer amazement.

Your husband usually needed to rest after granting you one round of intimacy, requiring a moment of recovery. But tonight, he was changed...

Miguel groaned, his cock still aching for more of you. The desire he felt from the intimacy with you was still at an all-time high. “Always, I always want more, baby,” he breathed, releasing your arms to join you on the bed.

He tugged you to rest your back against his chest, your body molding perfectly to his hardened one. His hand lifted your leg, sliding his rigid cock along your slit and teasing you with his thick member. “I know you’ve always wanted a little one, mi amor,” Miguel whispered into your ear.

“Why don’t we try one more time?”

Your eyes widened at your husband’s words, the shock and pleasure blending perfectly. Resting on your side, you cupped his face behind you, searching his features to ensure he was serious. “A-Are you sure? You... believed it wasn’t... meant to be years ago,” you told him between soft moans, the gentle peck on your temple from your spouse confirming your suspicions.

“I know, bebé. But I want to make you happy,” Miguel said, his gaze boring into yours, seeing the hope and love blooming inside. “I want to give you what you deserve, mi amor—what we deserve.”

To emphasize his words, he pushed into you once more, filling you to the hilt. You moaned; the eye contact between the two of you unbreaking as your husband thrust into you. His hand held your thigh, spreading you perfectly to take his cock with ease.

Your cries and the sound of your pussy’s squelching were music to Miguel’s ears, his fingers digging into the softness of your leg enough to bruise. “Fuck, you feel so good, cariño,” he growled, pounding into you vigorously.

Your eyes fluttered, instantly feeling that familiar burning in your stomach again “I-I’m close, M-Miggy,” you whined, your body very responsive and sensitive due to your lack of intimacy as of late.

Miguel snarled, increasing his pace. He buried his face in your hair, his balls slapping against your ass. “Cariño, I want you... to remember this moment,” he growled, his shaft pounding into you at an inhumane speed.

“When you become pregnant with our child, I want you to remember this—remember me,” he said, pulling away to use his other hand to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging you back to meet his eyes.

“I want you to know that it was I who made you happy—who granted you the child you've always wanted.” His words were punctuated with each rapid and precise thrust that took your breath away.

His fingers tightened in your hair as the ache in his groin and the tightening sensation of his balls grew. “Do you understand me, amor?” Miguel asked through parted lips, his fangs peeking out, but he doubted you’d noticed in your state.

He stared into the depths of your glazed eyes, hoping you’d grant his wish of being remembered even after he departed.

You gazed at your husband, your heart skipping a beat. His words seemed to hold a deeper meaning, spoken in a manner that felt wistful, but you hoped you were wrong, blaming it on the fuzziness in your brain.

His groans and continuous thrusts made your stomach burn with pleasure as you nodded. When you looked at your husband, even in his disheveled state, you couldn’t deny that he looked sexier than ever.

Tonight, every feature about him made you fall in love all over again—from his messy hair and amber eyes to his defined cheekbones and large frame that always made you feel small yet guarded and protected.

Tonight, your husband rekindled your adoration for him and your marriage, which was everything you didn’t know you needed.

“Y-yes…” you replied amidst the wet slapping of skin. “I’ll r-remember, for y-you.”

Miguel’s heart clenched, his movements halting as you looked up at him in utter infatuation—a look he believed was meant for him, not the Earth-956 Miguel.

The hot-tempered and controlling Spider Society Leader had finally found what he was looking for:

you.

Miguel groaned, smashing his lips against yours and moving in deep, slow thrusts. He wanted you to feel every moment.

When your spouse kissed you, it wasn’t filled with hunger and desperation like before; it was loving, which almost made you tear up.

The change in pace allowed you to relish every part of your husband, feeling the ridges and veins of his cock, the sheer girth of him, how he stretched you out perfectly and touched your G-spot so well that it made your toes curl.

It wasn’t long before you felt that high again—that need to release. “I-I’m cumming, M-Miggy, I’m cumming,” you said in a shaky voice, lying on your side with his muscular frame behind you, holding you close and showing his love with each pound of his cock.

The Spider Society Leader kissed your cheek as you shook in his hold, allowing your orgasm to overwhelm you. The way you screamed his name was everything to him; for once, you were addressing him, and he was no longer on the outside looking in.

Following your release, Miguel sped up. With a hiss, his shaft returned to its bestial pace, fucking into you like an animal in heat.

But it wasn’t long before the Spider Society Leader joined you in bliss.

With a deep thrust, a loud guttural groan erupted from his chest, releasing his load into you, filling you completely.

You moaned, arching your back against him, feeling yourself being stuffed. Your eyes squeezed shut in exhaustion as Miguel slowly pulled out.

Miguel brushed your hair from your face, taking in your stunning features. His heart clenched as he pressed gentle kisses on your shoulder and cheek, relishing each peck, knowing it would have to be his last.

He slowly rose to his full height, running his hand along your thighs and caressing your belly, hoping that by leaving a piece of him with you, it would grant you the happiness he wouldn’t be able to provide due to his absence.

Your husband’s loving touches comforted you. Sighing in relief, you felt him cover you with a blanket, the fabric soothing your jittery being. With a flick of a lamp, your bedroom was encased in darkness, except for the light beaming from Miguel’s side of the bed.

You could hear him moving around, making sure you were comfortable and content. However, when your eyes opened, you found him tugging on his pants, his massive body blocking the light as he put on his bottoms.

“Where are you…going?” you asked, the worry and sadness evident in your voice, Hastily, you sat up, tugging the blanket over your body, aware your hair looked like a total mess from your shared intimacy.

You didn’t want to go back to the ruin of your marriage, sleeping separately, with one of you in the guest bedroom while the other lay here.

You didn’t want to return to a marriage in which you weren’t happy, hoping your husband felt the same.

The longing for him was what Miguel feared. He couldn’t stay, no matter how much he wanted to.

But when he looked back at you sitting up in bed, your sad eyes practically on the verge of tears at his leaving made the thought of denying you impossible.

Smiling, he returned, crawling onto the bed and wrapping you in his arms. His arms engulfed you, holding you and seeking to not let you go anytime soon.

“Thank you,” you whispered, snuggling closer and resting your face on his chest.

“Anything for you, mi amor.” His response making your heart flutter.

You lay with your husband, listening to his deep breathing and the faint thumping of his heart, feeling safe in his arms.

“I hope this moment never ends,” you said aloud, your fingers dancing across his defined abs and relishing in the expanse of muscle that encased you.

Miguel took in your words and your hopes for this moment to last forever. Oblivious, you didn’t realize that desiring more of this moment meant wanting him, not your previous husband.

Glancing down at your form resting atop him, Miguel couldn’t help but let another insane thought creep into his mind.

It was perfect—perhaps a little wicked and cruel—but he was doing this for you.

And your little one…

With a dark smirk, he tightened his arm around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Sí, let’s make this moment last forever…mi eposa…”

A/N: That concludes “You’re Not My Husband!” Goodness, writing both Miguel as a human and as Spider-Man 2099 was a joy! I especially like the difference between the two. If you enjoyed it just as much as I did, please like, comment, reblog, and follow!

I’ll be making a separate post, but Happy Birthday to the love of my life, Miguel O'Hara!! ❤️😘💙

If you’re excited to see what else my older sister, @powerful-niya, and I have in store for Vicetober, stay tuned. 😈

Hope everyone has a wonderful day! Stay safe!!

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedeva @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywatty @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages @prazinos @huniedeux @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @anniee-mr @crimin4llyins4ne @lynxslokley @rice-wife @oharafilipinawife @migueloharastruelove @rodriash002 @e1f-boi @user3732094737 @truth-dare-spin-bottle @taleiak @alurafairy @ddreabea @saturnistireddd @reader-1290 @laysmt @reader-1290

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covid-safer-hotties · 10 months ago

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Also preserved on our archive

By Pandora Dewan

Levels of the virus that causes COVID-19 remain high across the U.S. despite recent decreases in positive case reports across the country. However, viral activity varies significantly across different states, new data from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) shows.

As of September 21, the overall viral activity level in wastewater across the country has been demoted from "very high" to just "high," although "very high" levels are still being detected in 13 states. These are particularly concentrated in the Midwest. Twenty-one states now exhibit "high" levels of wastewater activity, and nine are classed as "moderate."

Meanwhile, "low" levels have been detected in six states, with "minimal" levels, the lowest classification, seen in New York.

After a surge in COVID-19 cases this summer, infection rates seem to be on the decline. Positive tests now account for 11.6 percent of all COVID tests (excluding at-home testing) in the U.S., down 1.8 percent from the previous week. Coronavirus levels do remain high in certain states, especially those in the Central U.S.

The map below shows which states have seen the highest detections in wastewater.

(Follow link for interactive map)

Viral levels in wastewater are a helpful indicator of disease prevalence within a population.

Recent spikes in COVID-19 cases have been largely driven by a new class of subvariants nicknamed FLiRT after the position of the mutations on the virus' spike proteins, the projections that allow them to enter our cells.

These proteins are also used as targets by immune systems and vaccinations, so changes in their structure can allow the virus to bypass the body's defenses more easily. However, existing vaccines are likely to provide at least some form of protection against more severe symptoms and long COVID.

As of September 28, the now dominant subvariant, KP.3.1.1, accounted for more than 59 percent of all U.S. COVID-19 cases over the previous two weeks, according to the CDC, with the FLiRT variants accounting for more than 80 percent of cases in total.

However, while the U.S. has seen a steady rise in infections over the summer, hospitalizations and deaths have remained relatively low. It appears that the new FLiRT variants, while more infectious, do not generally cause such severe symptoms.

The symptoms include the following, according to the CDC:

Fever or chills Cough Shortness of breath Fatigue Muscle or body aches Headache Loss of taste or smell Sore throat Runny nose Nausea or vomiting Diarrhea

More vulnerable individuals may still be at risk of severe illness, so it is important to self-isolate if you receive a positive COVID test.

#mask up #covid #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #public health #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #wear a respirator #still coviding

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mariacallous · 6 months ago

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Ever since OpenAI released ChatGPT at the end of 2022, hackers and security researchers have tried to find holes in large language models (LLMs) to get around their guardrails and trick them into spewing out hate speech, bomb-making instructions, propaganda, and other harmful content. In response, OpenAI and other generative AI developers have refined their system defenses to make it more difficult to carry out these attacks. But as the Chinese AI platform DeepSeek rockets to prominence with its new, cheaper R1 reasoning model, its safety protections appear to be far behind those of its established competitors.

Today, security researchers from Cisco and the University of Pennsylvania are publishing findings showing that, when tested with 50 malicious prompts designed to elicit toxic content, DeepSeek’s model did not detect or block a single one. In other words, the researchers say they were shocked to achieve a “100 percent attack success rate.”

The findings are part of a growing body of evidence that DeepSeek’s safety and security measures may not match those of other tech companies developing LLMs. DeepSeek’s censorship of subjects deemed sensitive by China’s government has also been easily bypassed.

“A hundred percent of the attacks succeeded, which tells you that there’s a trade-off,” DJ Sampath, the VP of product, AI software and platform at Cisco, tells WIRED. “Yes, it might have been cheaper to build something here, but the investment has perhaps not gone into thinking through what types of safety and security things you need to put inside of the model.”

Other researchers have had similar findings. Separate analysis published today by the AI security company Adversa AI and shared with WIRED also suggests that DeepSeek is vulnerable to a wide range of jailbreaking tactics, from simple language tricks to complex AI-generated prompts.

DeepSeek, which has been dealing with an avalanche of attention this week and has not spoken publicly about a range of questions, did not respond to WIRED’s request for comment about its model’s safety setup.

Generative AI models, like any technological system, can contain a host of weaknesses or vulnerabilities that, if exploited or set up poorly, can allow malicious actors to conduct attacks against them. For the current wave of AI systems, indirect prompt injection attacks are considered one of the biggest security flaws. These attacks involve an AI system taking in data from an outside source—perhaps hidden instructions of a website the LLM summarizes—and taking actions based on the information.

Jailbreaks, which are one kind of prompt-injection attack, allow people to get around the safety systems put in place to restrict what an LLM can generate. Tech companies don’t want people creating guides to making explosives or using their AI to create reams of disinformation, for example.

Jailbreaks started out simple, with people essentially crafting clever sentences to tell an LLM to ignore content filters—the most popular of which was called “Do Anything Now” or DAN for short. However, as AI companies have put in place more robust protections, some jailbreaks have become more sophisticated, often being generated using AI or using special and obfuscated characters. While all LLMs are susceptible to jailbreaks, and much of the information could be found through simple online searches, chatbots can still be used maliciously.

“Jailbreaks persist simply because eliminating them entirely is nearly impossible—just like buffer overflow vulnerabilities in software (which have existed for over 40 years) or SQL injection flaws in web applications (which have plagued security teams for more than two decades),” Alex Polyakov, the CEO of security firm Adversa AI, told WIRED in an email.

Cisco’s Sampath argues that as companies use more types of AI in their applications, the risks are amplified. “It starts to become a big deal when you start putting these models into important complex systems and those jailbreaks suddenly result in downstream things that increases liability, increases business risk, increases all kinds of issues for enterprises,” Sampath says.

The Cisco researchers drew their 50 randomly selected prompts to test DeepSeek’s R1 from a well-known library of standardized evaluation prompts known as HarmBench. They tested prompts from six HarmBench categories, including general harm, cybercrime, misinformation, and illegal activities. They probed the model running locally on machines rather than through DeepSeek’s website or app, which send data to China.

Beyond this, the researchers say they have also seen some potentially concerning results from testing R1 with more involved, non-linguistic attacks using things like Cyrillic characters and tailored scripts to attempt to achieve code execution. But for their initial tests, Sampath says, his team wanted to focus on findings that stemmed from a generally recognized benchmark.

Cisco also included comparisons of R1’s performance against HarmBench prompts with the performance of other models. And some, like Meta’s Llama 3.1, faltered almost as severely as DeepSeek’s R1. But Sampath emphasizes that DeepSeek’s R1 is a specific reasoning model, which takes longer to generate answers but pulls upon more complex processes to try to produce better results. Therefore, Sampath argues, the best comparison is with OpenAI’s o1 reasoning model, which fared the best of all models tested. (Meta did not immediately respond to a request for comment).

Polyakov, from Adversa AI, explains that DeepSeek appears to detect and reject some well-known jailbreak attacks, saying that “it seems that these responses are often just copied from OpenAI’s dataset.” However, Polyakov says that in his company’s tests of four different types of jailbreaks—from linguistic ones to code-based tricks—DeepSeek’s restrictions could easily be bypassed.

“Every single method worked flawlessly,” Polyakov says. “What’s even more alarming is that these aren’t novel ‘zero-day’ jailbreaks—many have been publicly known for years,” he says, claiming he saw the model go into more depth with some instructions around psychedelics than he had seen any other model create.

“DeepSeek is just another example of how every model can be broken—it’s just a matter of how much effort you put in. Some attacks might get patched, but the attack surface is infinite,” Polyakov adds. “If you’re not continuously red-teaming your AI, you’re already compromised.”

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perotovar · 1 year ago

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bloody kisses — part two: i don't wanna be me

pairing: shane morrissey/tim rockford rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 6.6k content: vaguely takes place in the 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, descriptions of a crime scene/injury (bullet wound and head trauma)(not shane or tim), heavy petting, oral (male receiving), protected p in a, discussions of dom/sub and top/bottom, tiny bit of misogyny (shane is ignorant af and it's like 2002 lol), first time bottoming, shane's internal battles, tim being a really fucking good partner, f e e l i n g s, seriously this is sappy y'all, if i missed anything lmk! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @chronically-ghosted (seriously i can't explain how much taylor has helped with this story, go give her some love!)

series summary: shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

series masterlist

for updates, follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifications ♥

Shane locked himself in his bedroom for three days after the disaster at Tim’s apartment. He’s never felt so stupid in his life. How could he just… kiss him like that?

Why did he do that?

He thought about that moment constantly, for hours at a time. Tim’s lips, for how briefly they’d touched his own, felt so… correct. They were soft, a little chapped, but warm. It was like things clicked into place for him. He doesn’t remember any kisses with Raven ever feeling like that. Or any girl he’d been with, for that matter.

He hated himself for how good it felt. Especially because Tim ended it before it ever really began.

Shane wasn’t sure if there was anyone else he could go to about any of this. Legally, he still lived with his mom and her husband in their downtown apartment, but they never saw each other. He basically had his own area of the apartment to himself. His mom and her husband made enough that they didn’t really notice or care what Shane did with his life. He didn’t have any goals, and he guessed that’s why he did petty crimes like he did. He was just so fucking bored.

And now he was dealing with… this.

He stared at Tim’s business card, his thumb rubbing over the older man’s name. He was curled up on his bed, holding one of his pillows close. He looked at the clock on his bedside table. The bright green text read 2:18am. He sighed to himself and rolled over onto his back.

He wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.

Nobody noticed a change in Tim at work. If they did, they were professional enough not to bring it up. He felt fucking awful for how things went down with Shane. He wanted to reciprocate so badly, but Shane was vulnerable and Tim didn’t want to take advantage of him like that.

“Boss, I got those files you needed.”

Tim looked up from his desk, pen still in hand while he filled out the paperwork for a robbery he’d taken care of the day before. He’d thought about Shane and his magazine the entire time. “Thank you,” he grunted, pointing at an empty spot on his desk. “Can just set it there, please.”

The agent set it down and took off, getting back to work.

Tim looked back down at the file he was working on and sighed, losing his focus. He looked over at the phone on his desk and frowned. He didn’t have Shane’s number so he couldn’t call him. He wanted to tell Shane that what happened wasn’t wrong, or even unwanted.

The sound of heavy footsteps brought him out of his thoughts. Matthews, his partner, slammed Tim’s office door open.

“There’s been a shooting!”

Tim furrowed his brows, pushing his thoughts of Shane away for now, and focusing on the task at hand. “Where? Do we know anything else?” He asked, opening the drawer in his desk to put his gun holster on over his shoulders.

“Yeah, it was at a liquor store downtown. We have an idea of who the victim is based on descriptions from the employee working at the time, but not of the shooter,” Matthews answered, handing Tim’s trenchcoat to him.

The two detectives made their way to Tim’s car and sped off to the crime scene.

“His name is Howard Xavier, and he’s twenty-eight,” Watson, the cop who was in the area, explained. “He’s on his way to the hospital now, but he looks to be in decent condition.”

Tim nodded, eyes looking over the crime scene. Flashes of photos being taken filled the peripheries of his vision. There were bottles of wine and hard liquor crashed everywhere. “Looks like Xavier tried to run from the shooter,” he mumbled, crouching down to look at the dirty boot prints on the linoleum floor.

“Do you think they knew each other?” Matthews asked.

Tim sighed, looking up at his partner before standing again. “Who’s to say?” He shrugged. “Maybe. Do we have any information on any relatives or associates?”

“No family, but we’ve found a couple of friends on file,” Matthews replied. “I think we’ve got them back at the station.”

Tim nodded. “Let’s head back and see what we can find.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tim couldn’t believe his fucking eyes.

Known Associates: Tracy Wynanski and Shane Morrissey.

This had to have been the coincidence to end all coincidences or Tim had an insane amount of luck. There was a phone number for Tracy, but no address. He stepped out of his office and approached his secretary, an older woman by the name of Dolores.

“Can you get me Shane Morrissey’s file, please?” He asked, voice a little more gruff than he’d intended.

“Of course, sweetie, give me one moment,” Dolores smiled, rolling her chair to the file cabinets.

Shane’s file in hand, he sat back at his desk and started looking through the files for Howard Xavier again. A bullet wound to the thigh, and blunt force trauma to the head.

He figured it’d be easy to get the professional parts out of the way first and called Tracy, asking if she knew anything about the shooting. She said she didn’t, since her and Howard hadn’t seen each other in a couple of months. She’d gone back home to Philadelphia after a breakup.

“Thank you, Tracy,” he said. “Do you happen to know Shane Morrissey? He’s one of Howard’s other known associates and I’d like to ask if he knows anything.”

Tracy let out a bitter laugh and said, “Oh, I know Shane. He can kiss my ass for all I care.”

“Ms. Wynanski, please–”

“I don’t have a number for him, but I can tell you where he lives. Not saying he’ll be there, though,” she paused. “Likes to frequent this one house full of his ‘friends’ when he’s not at home moping.”

Tim felt his entire body relax, shutting his eyes as he took a deep breath. “That will be very helpful. Thank you, Ms. Wynanski. Do you have the address for the other house?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t go in there like you’re looking for him, though. They’ll all run off.”

“I can handle it. Thank you, Ms Wynanski.”

After confirming that the address Tracy had matched the one they had on file, and wrote down the other address, he called Matthews, who decided to check on Xavier at the hospital.

“He’s stable. He’ll probably stay here for a couple of days,” his partner said through the phone.

“Alright. I’ve got a lead on one of his associates. It’s fucking Morrissey, John,” Tim chuckled.

“You’re shitting me. Employee at the liquor store said Xavier looked like he walked out of the Satanic Temple so I guess I’m not too surprised.”

Tim rolled his eyes and snorted, making one last note on Howard’s file. “I’m gonna head out and look for him. Could you go to one of these addresses for me?”

“Sure thing, Tim. Don’t get trapped in some ritual sacrifice.”

“Fuck off,” Tim laughed.

Tim decided to go to the second house full of Shane’s “friends”. He figured it was more likely that he was there, and he was right. It looked like it was a gathering of about ten or fifteen other kids around Shane’s age, all dressed in similar clothing.

The house was filled with smoke and had music playing, so he decided it was better if he stayed in his car until Shane came outside. He didn’t want to embarrass the kid.

It didn’t take too long, Shane stumbling out of the house and laughing loudly. Tim turned the key, the engine for his Caprice coming to life. Shane startled and looked over, eyes locking with Tim’s behind the wheel.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Shane barked, stomping over to the passenger window and glaring at the older man.

“I need your help,” Tim said softly.

Shane rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you fucking stalk me here? You can’t be here– They can’t see me with you.”

“Then get in. They won’t know.” Tim looked up at him, eyes softening when he saw the clear hurt on Shane’s face. He wasn’t very angry by the looks of it. Just upset.

Shane scoffed, looked back at the house, and raised his arms in defeat. “Fine,” he grumbled, opening the passenger side door and sitting down.

“Seatbelt.”

“Eat me, old man,” Shane rolled his eyes. He lifted a leg and rested his chunky boot on the car’s dashboard.

Tim sighed heavily and didn’t argue. He’ll just clean his car later. “You wanna talk at the station or at my apartment?”

Shane bit his lip, picking at a rip in his jeans and making it worse. “I don’t wanna go to the station.”

“Figured as much,” Tim exhaled, looking behind the car for any oncoming traffic and pulling out of the neighborhood towards his apartment.

Shane stared at Tim’s arms underneath the tight white dress shirt, the fabric pulling at the thick muscle. He wondered what Tim looked like on top of him, those strong arms pinning him to a mattress and–

“You know a Howard Xavier, right?” Tim asked, eyes squinting at the file in his hands.

The two of them were seated at the table in Tim’s dining room, the surface in front of them covered in documents and files.

“Yeah, that’s X,” Shane mumbled, picking at his nails so he could hide the pink in his cheeks.

Tim raised a brow but didn’t comment, nodding. “Do you know if he had any enemies, Shane?” He asked, digging his glasses out of his front pocket and putting them on. “That’s better,” he said to himself, the text on the files clearing up.

Shane blinked a couple times, the sight of Tim wearing glasses doing more for him than he thought possible. His breathing picked up a little, heart pounding in his chest when Tim made eye contact with him, waiting for Shane to answer. “U-um, I don’t think so? X was always pretty chill,” he mumbled.

Tim nodded and took notes on a sticky pad. Tim’s phone started ringing, making the older man get up and answer it. “Rockford,” he grunted into the receiver.

Shane stayed seated and kept to himself, listening to the one sided conversation.

“You’re shitting me. He did? Thanks, John. Yeah. You too. Have a good night.”

Tim exhaled and hung up the phone, clicking his pen. “Good news,” he smiled, taking his seat at the table across from Shane. “Xavier woke up and described the shooter. My partner found him.”

Shane nodded, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table. “‘S good,” he mumbled.

Tim watched Shane’s face closely, eyes trailing over the piercings and the messy hair. “I’m sorry I took you away from your party,” he said softly.

“‘S okay. Don’t like those guys very much,” Shane shrugged. Now that he was here, he was having a hard time not curling in on himself again. He couldn’t even look Tim in the eye without thinking about what his lips felt and tasted like.

Tim furrowed his brows. “Why do you hang out with them, then?” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to pry, but it was sort of his job to find information. Shane wasn’t a job, though. He was much more than that.

Shane sighed and angrily looked at Tim for a second before looking away again. “Why do you care?”

Tim bit his lip, fiddling with his tie. “You really wanna know, kid?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” he rolled his eyes.

“Because I see a lot of myself in you, Shane,” Tim admitted gently, crossing one leg over the other.

Shane furrowed his brows and looked at Tim incredulously.

“It’s true. Would you believe me if I said I got arrested? Was about your age, too.” Tim chuckled as he remembered what caused his arrest.

A small smile grew on Shane’s face. “What’d you do?”

“Public Indecency.”

Shane’s eyes grew three times in size. “Did you get caught having sex? Were you streaking?” He giggled, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Uh, well,” Tim chuckled. “I was in my car at the time and having sex.”

Shane laughed, face as red as a tomato. His thoughts flooded with images of what Tim having sex looked like. What sort of faces did he make? What kind of sounds did he make? Was he more dominant or submissive?

“Were you going down on her or…?”

“Him,” Tim answered easily. “And no, we were uh… I was found on top of him.”

Shane froze, eyes wide. He looked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked back at Tim briefly before settling his eyes on Tim’s tie. “You’re…?” He asked shakily.

“Yeah, kid,” Tim chuckled. Shane looked terrified and it broke Tim’s heart. “I said I was here for you if you needed me. I still am.”

Shane squeezed his eyes shut and let out a heavy, shaky breath. He rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans and looked at Tim with wet, glossy eyes. “I don’t– I don’t understand,” he shook his head in disbelief. “You don’t seem–”

“Not every gay person is really flamboyant, Shane.”

Shane blushed in embarrassment. “Why did you turn away from me, then? Why didn’t you kiss me back?” He frowned, voice shaky and hurt.

Tim’s eyes rounded, his whole face becoming softer. “I wanted to,” he admitted, looking down at Shane’s ring-clad hands. “But it wasn’t fair to you. I didn’t… I didn’t want to take advantage of you like that.”

“Take advantage–! I kissed you!” Shane roared.

“You were vulnerable and confused. And,” Tim gulped. “And I’m a lot older than you, it’s… It’s not appropriate.” He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly at how much it hurt to say out loud.

“Tim,” Shane whimpered, biting his lip. He felt a thick lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation right now. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. It felt like he was having an out of body experience. “I don’t care about that, I’m– I’m more worried about you being a cop than being older than me. I’m an adult,” he scoffed, his bottom lip trembling.

Tim couldn’t hold in the chuckle that bubbled out of him. “I know you are. I just don’t– I don’t know how this could continue–”

“Please, shut up,” Shane begged, getting out of his chair and making his way over to Tim. He looked down at the older man, face burning, and slowly crawled into Tim’s lap, wrapping his arms around Tim’s neck. “I don’t wanna talk anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t wanna think anymore. Please.”

Tim’s hands instinctively found their place on Shane’s hips. His eyes moved from Shane’s to the younger man’s lips, then back up. “Are you sure?” He asked softly, rubbing his thumbs into Shane’s hip bones.

“No,” Shane mumbled. “Well, yes, but… No.”

Tim raised a brow and smirked. “How about we take things slow.”

Shane nodded, biting his lip. “Okay.”

Tim smiled and softly connected their lips, caressing Shane’s head, thumb rubbing at his jaw. Shane whimpered quietly as he tentatively kissed back. His lips trembled against Tim’s, soft huffs of air expelling out from between them. He’d kissed before but this was so… different. The feeling of Tim’s facial hair against his lips was weird. Good, but weird.

Shane experimentally ran his tongue along Tim’s bottom lip. Tim took the hint and softly caressed Shane’s tongue with his own, making the younger man gasp into his mouth. Tim squeezed Shane’s narrow hips, trying to ground him, and sighed into the kiss. It built a little over time, but eventually, they found a rhythm. The soft clinking of metal from Shane’s earrings filled the otherwise silent apartment. They learned each other over the course of their kissing. Tim learned that Shane liked to nibble and bite, and Shane learned that Tim liked to encompass him entirely, like he could devour Shane’s mouth if given the chance.

When Tim pulled away for some much needed air, Shane whined in protest, his face leaning toward Tim’s to keep going. “Slow your roll, kid,” Tim chuckled, pressing his forehead to Shane’s and panting quietly. Shane blushed, and chewed his swollen bottom lip while he waited. “C’mere,” Tim grunted, tugging Shane’s leather duster off his shoulders. Shane went along with it, pulling his arms free before the sound of squeaky leather fell into a heap on the floor.

Large hands ran over Shane’s hips and waist, but never ventured lower. Shane shivered when Tim’s blunt nails lightly scratched at the exposed skin of his lower back as his t-shirt rode up. Shane’s cock twitched in interest, making him blush high on his cheeks.

“‘s okay, sweetheart,” Tim hummed. He rolled his hips a little, his own half-hard cock rubbing against Shane’s.

Shane’s eyes grew twice their size at the feeling and looked down at the bulge in Tim’s slacks. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away. His imagination was a lot easier to handle than the real thing pressing into his inner thigh.

Tim furrowed his brows in concern and rubbed Shane’s skin underneath his t-shirt comfortingly. “What are you thinking about?” He asked softly.

Shane inhaled heavily, and slowly let out a deep breath before turning his head back toward Tim. He opened his eyes, but didn’t make contact. “Just… weird. Feeling your…”

Tim hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you want to stop?”

Shane shook his head, eyes still burning holes into Tim’s slowly rising and falling tummy.

“Need to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop,” Shane whispered.

“Do you want to lie down? There’s no expectation for anything,” Tim said, sitting up a little more in the dining room chair.

The stretch in Shane’s thighs suddenly overtook any doubts he had, making him shakily get up from Tim’s lap. He was used to having someone sit on his lap like that and being in that position made his stomach hurt.

Tim laced his fingers through Shane’s and gently guided him to his bedroom. He kept the lights low and rubbed his thumb over Shane’s knuckles. “You okay?”

Shane stared at Tim’s bed and swallowed a lump in his throat. “Y-yeah,” he croaked.

Tim chewed on his lip in thought and let go of Shane’s smaller hand. He gave Shane some space as he took off his glasses and removed the tie he was wearing. He toed off his dress shoes and put them in his closet. When he turned around after unbuttoning his dress shirt, Shane was sitting on his bed, hands curled up into fists on his ripped jean-covered thighs.

Tim sighed softly and sat next to him on the bed. “What’s goin’ through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, tugging on pieces of Shane’s hair that were sticking straight out.

Shane shut his eyes and took another deep breath. “I’m just… I’m having a hard time being… like, the female part.” He curled in on himself, his shoulders hiding his ears.

Tim blinked a couple times. “Sweetheart, we’re both men.”

“I-I know that! I just,” he swallowed a lump in his throat. “Usually, I’m in your position. Taking charge.”

“I see,” Tim sighed, getting more comfortable and turning toward him. Shane did the same, but didn’t make eye contact with him. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

Shane blushed, those big brown eyes of his lifting up to meet Tim’s.

“Alright, firstly, who told you there were ‘male’ and ‘female’ roles?” Tim raised a brow.

“W-well, uh–”

“It’s alright, I already know who. Lesson number one,” Tim smiled reassuringly. “Just because you’re sitting on my lap, letting me ‘take charge’, doesn’t mean you’re weak, honey.”

Shane gulped and nodded, taking all of this in. Tim felt like a professor. Probably the first one Shane would ever listen to.

“And women aren’t weak, so get that out of your head, too.”

Shane let out a heavy breath. This was a lot to take in.

“Did you feel good?” Tim asked, picking up one of Shane’s hands and rubbing his thumb over the scabbed knuckles. When Shane nodded jerkily, Tim grinned, his chest feeling warm at the admission. “That’s all that matters. Think of it this way,” he paused. Shane hung onto every word. “Everything we do? It’s with your say-so. You’re driving the car here.”

Shane blinked as he thought about it. He could work with that. “Oh,” he said quietly.

“You want me to make you feel good again?” Tim smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners. Shane’s heart thundered at the sight.

“Y-yes.”

“Go ahead and lay back for me, alright?”

Shane nodded and got comfy, head cradled by Tim’s fluffy pillows. His entire body was buzzing and tense. He kept his eyes on Tim’s popcorn ceiling, the sounds of Tim’s belt jingling filling the room. When the bed dipped with Tim’s weight, Shane’s heart stuttered a little. One of Tim’s big hands cupped his cheek and gently turned his face so he could look at Tim again. Shane wasn’t expecting the softness in Tim’s features, or the heat in his eyes.

Tim rubbed Shane’s cheek with his thumb. “We don’t have to go far tonight. There’s no rush.”

Shane nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

This time, when their lips connected, Shane eased into it a lot sooner, kissing the older man with renewed fervor. He sighed into it, the warmth radiating off of Tim being an endless source of comfort. He gripped onto Tim’s opened dress shirt and tugged it down his shoulders. Tim released Shane’s lips briefly while he shrugged the shirt off and tossed it on the floor. Shane moaned weakly when Tim surged forward and sucked his bottom lip between his own.

Shane’s head was fuzzy, all the blood there rushing down between his legs. He gasped when Tim rolled him over and hovered over him, pressing his hips between Shane’s thighs. Tim took his time with him, kissing him languidly while he unbuckled Shane’s jeans.

“Can I touch you?” Tim breathed between kisses.

Shane nodded quickly, holding the sides of Tim’s head and tangling his fingers in the short, thick locks of Tim’s hair. Tim smiled against the younger man’s lips and pulled Shane’s baggy, ripped jeans off. Shane toed off his own socks before wrapping his legs around Tim’s thick waist. Tim was so much larger than Shane was and it made his head spin.

Tim’s hands played with the bottom of Shane’s t-shirt and slowly lifted it up, bunching under his armpits. He pulled away to look at Shane’s torso and grinned when he saw the small tattoos there. Both hands holding Shane’s sides, he gently rubbed at the younger man’s nipples, making Shane gasp. Goosebumps and flushed skin covered his entire body in seconds, making Shane lightly smack Tim’s shoulder. Tim laughed lightly and softly kissed his way down Shane’s torso until he was eye level with the tent in the younger man’s boxers.

Shane blushed hard, eyes wide. “W-what are you doing?”

Tim raised a brow and tilted his head slightly, tugging on the elastic of Shane’s boxers. “Said I’d make you feel good, sweetheart.”

Shane blinked. “B-but isn’t that…”

“There are no roles. But if you don’t want me to, then–”

“I do!” Shane smacked his hand over his own mouth and shut his eyes, hoping the bed would swallow him whole.

A wolfish smirk crossed Tim’s features as he lowered his head, kissing along Shane’s pelvis. Shane whimpered at the feeling of Tim’s facial hair across his skin, his body shuddering. “Breathe, sweetheart,” Tim whispered, shutting his eyes to suck gently at Shane’s hip and leaving a mark.

Shane forced himself to take a deep breath, shutting his eyes to center himself. When he opened his eyes, Tim quirked a brow up at him as he tugged on Shane’s boxers again. Shane nodded his consent and almost groaned at the cool air in the apartment hitting his throbbing cock. Tim hummed appreciatively and didn’t waste a second, kissing the tip, then making his way down the shaft.

Shane moaned openly gripping the sheets of the bed into tight fists. “T-Tim, what–”

“Shh…” Tim whispered, engulfing the head of Shane’s cock in his mouth. He moaned at the taste and watched Shane’s face as he slowly bobbed his head up and down. Shane’s eyes rolled back and arched his back off the bed.

Shane felt his cheeks throb and the blood rushing in his ears, doing everything in his power to keep his hips down. When his hips bucked up on their own, he moaned weakly, looking at Tim’s face to make sure he didn’t choke him. What he found instead made his cock twitch.

This was one of Tim’s favorite things to do. Making his partner feel good with his mouth was something he always got pleasure out of and Shane was no different. In fact, this was probably one of the more rewarding times, because this was the first time a man had done this for him. He felt good knowing he got to be the first, and a little possessive side of him liked the idea even more.

Eyes shut, Tim moaned around Shane’s length, losing himself in it. He gripped Shane’s hips and rubbed the bones there to soothe him. Shane’s chest rose and fell quickly as he watched. He felt a little embarrassed to admit that this was probably the best head he’d ever received.

Tim opened his eyes, keeping an eye on any changes in Shane’s face.

Shane felt his balls drawing up, making him moan weakly. “I-I’m gonna–” He cut himself off, gripping the sheets tighter. Tim doubled his efforts, bobbing his head a little faster. “Oh, fuck,” Shane whined, his thighs trembling on either side of Tim’s head.

Tim moved his hands up Shane’s torso and rubbed at the younger man’s nipples again, urging him on.

“W-wait, wait–” Shane gasped, smacking his hand against Tim’s shoulder as the pressure built and built. Tim watched closely and if he could, he’d grin to himself as he watched Shane’s eyes roll back. Shane’s entire body stilled and he came hard, thick ropes of cum shooting down Tim’s throat. Shane’s moans went up three octaves as he shook with pleasure, his toes curling.

Tim swallowed everything and slowly, gently, raised his head. He licked Shane clean, kissing back up his torso. Once he was hovering over Shane again, Tim smiled at the blissed out expression on his face. He chuckled lightly and kissed Shane’s cheek.

“Still with me?”

Shane shivered at the gravelly tone of Tim’s voice. It must be an octave or two lower than normal given what he’d just done. He slowly blinked his eyes open and didn’t have the energy to hold back the smile when he saw Tim’s handsome face. “Yeah, ‘m here,” he mumbled, his body feeling heavy and sated.

“Good. You should get some rest, sweetheart.” Tim’s laugh rumbled in his chest.

Shane pouted, big brown eyes glazed over, but determined. “What about you?”

“I’ll be okay. Get some rest,” Tim said, kissing Shane’s forehead. “Can I take your shirt off?” He asked, pulling the material down from where it was bunched up under his armpits.

Shane nodded, watching in awe as Tim took care of him. It was at this moment that Shane realized Tim was completely serious with him. He wouldn’t make fun of him, or use him. Shane felt tears prickling behind his eyes, but quickly blinked them away.

“Be right back, okay? Gonna get you some water,” Tim grunted quietly, crawling off the bed. Shane didn’t have the energy to argue, and just watched Tim’s broad back leave the bedroom.

When Tim returned with the glass of water, he was greeted with the sight of Shane’s sleeping form. He smiled at him, and set the water on the nightstand closest to Shane.

He got himself undressed, making sure to be careful of his own half-hard cock. Once he was down to his boxer briefs, he crawled into bed behind Shane and held the younger man close. The day caught up with him as he laid there, eyes trailing over the messy curls and multiple piercings in Shane’s ears.

He drifted off quickly, and had a dreamless sleep.

Twitch. Twitch.

Shane groaned in his sleep.

What was that?

He slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the light. He tried to turn and feel what was poking against his back, but he was held firmly in place by… Were those arms?

Shane’s eyes snapped open as the memories from the night before came flooding back. His cheeks burned as he looked down and saw the strong, very male, hands holding him close to a broad chest. Tim huffed in his sleep, making Shane smile shyly. He couldn’t deny it, being held by Tim felt really good. It was so warm.

He tried rotating in Tim’s arms, silently exhaling in relief when he didn’t seem to wake the older man. He felt the twitching again and looked down between their bodies.

Oh.

Shane smiled at the sight of Tim’s morning wood through his boxer briefs. He looked back up at Tim’s sleeping face and decided against doing anything until he’d woken up. For now, he ran his fingers through the thin layer of chest hair on Tim’s skin. It seemed obvious when he thought about it, but it was so different than when he was with a woman. He didn’t feel like he had to hide with Tim. Tim wouldn’t judge him.

Tim made him feel safe.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

Shane startled and looked up, Tim’s soft smirk and sleepy eyes greeting him. He shook his head in lieu of an answer.

When Tim grumbled in response, it reminded Shane of a bear.

“Do you want… You need help with that?” Shane asked timidly, pointing between their bodies. Their legs were tangled together and they were touching everywhere. The proximity and the feeling of warmth radiating from between Tim’s legs had Shane throbbing in no time.

Tim snorted and leaned forward, kissing Shane sleepily. Shane moaned into it, grinding his own cock against Tim’s. Tim pulled back and panted a little against Shane’s lips.

“We don’t have to. I’ll be okay–”

Shane cut him off by gripping Tim’s ass and squeezing. When Tim made a small noise of surprise, Shane smirked, attempting to pull Tim onto his own lap. “I want to,” he said, voice determined, but shaky. “I want… I wanna know what it feels like. I have to make sure.”

Tim blinked at him, a little shocked by the sudden change in Shane’s behavior. One of his legs was draped over Shane’s waist as he cupped the younger man’s face. Shane seemed to melt at the gesture, making Tim smirk. “Are you sure?” He asked, brows pinched in concern. He didn’t want Shane to rush into anything.

“Yes,” Shane nodded.

There was more conviction in that one word than a lot of things Shane had ever said to him, so Tim smiled softly at him. He held onto Shane’s thighs and rolled them over so he was hovering over Shane again, and rubbed the smooth skin comfortingly. “Alright. Lube and condoms are in the top drawer,” he nodded his head toward the nightstand.

With pink cheeks and a determined expression on his face, Shane reached over and dug out the necessary equipment. Everything really settled in his gut when he was holding everything. This was really going to happen. This wasn’t some dream he’d come up with while he was alone in his bedroom, looking at the cracks and fist-sized holes in his walls.

“C’mere,” Tim grunted, gently taking the items from him and holding Shane’s hip. “Gotta get you prepared, okay? Don’t want it to hurt for you.”

Shane nodded appreciatively and watched as Tim discarded his own underwear, kneeling on the bed between Shane’s thighs. He looked the older man over, eyes raking over the messy, gray curls and pillow creases on Tim’s cheeks. His eyes traveled down over the broad shoulders and chest, and down to the swell of Tim’s stomach. That was probably one of Shane’s favorite parts. His eyes landed on the thick cock between muscled thighs and Shane bit his lip. He had to remind himself not to pinch his arm, because this was real.

Tim carefully got the condom secured around his cock and drizzled some lube on his fingers. “You ready?” He smiled down at Shane, chest warm at the sight of him. Shane nodded, smiling shyly up at him.

Tim curled his fingers around Shane’s cock and pumped slowly. Shane sighed and shut his eyes, lips parting. Tim couldn’t help himself and surged forward, kissing the younger man deeply. He kept his hand on him, keeping up a decent pace as he teased a finger against Shane’s hole.

Shane’s body jerked at the intrusion, making Tim soothe him gently. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered. “I’ll be gentle.”

Shane let out a weak noise and nodded, holding on tight to Tim’s shoulders. He spread his legs a little more and wrapped them around Tim’s waist.

The first press of one of Tim’s thick fingers inside him already had Shane seeing stars. He panted as he looked down between his legs, trying to see what was happening. Tim cupped his face and forced him to look there instead. “Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he smiled.

Shane bit his lip and nodded, but gasped soon after as a second finger joined the first. His face twisted into an almost pained expression. Tim watched closely, eyes locked onto him. Tim pumped his fingers in a steady rhythm, searching for that sweet spot inside him. Shane was panting heavily, eyes glossed over, but staying on Tim’s face.

When Shane rolled his eyes back and he gasped, Tim knew he found it. Shane moaned, his cock twitching violently against his lower tummy. “H-hurry up, old man,” he groaned, toes curling on either side of Tim’s hips. “P-please,” he breathed.

Tim snorted, but didn’t argue, removing his fingers gently. Shane groaned at the loss and braced himself for the intrusion, eyes squeezed shut.

“Sweetheart, I need you to breathe first.” Tim leaned over him and kissed him tenderly. He watched as Shane let out one last deep breath and nodded up at him. “Atta boy,” Tim grinned.

Shane scoffed and rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. As Tim lined himself up, Shane’s heart thundered in his chest, watching the focus on Tim’s face mellow out. He had that same facial expression whenever he was interrogating Shane back at the station, or reading through files, or taking notes. But here, with Shane, he seemed to deflate a little. He relaxed.

The first push in knocked the wind out of Shane. He moaned, digging his nails into Tim’s broad shoulders. Tim hid his face in Shane’s neck and kissed along the younger man’s sleep-soft skin. “Doin’ so good, sweetheart,” he breathed, hips slowly pushing forward.

Shane trembled in Tim’s arms until Tim’s hips were flush against him. Time stopped as Tim settled, letting Shane adjust. Shane had to blink a few times, swallowing around a lump in his throat. All thought left Shane’s head and the only thing left was the sweet stretch of Tim’s cock inside him. Every wall he’d built up was successfully crumbling at his trembling form.

Tim petted Shane’s sweaty hair out of his face, kissing him on every available patch of skin he could find.

“M-move,” Shane panted, eyes half lidded and glazed over. “Please.”

So Tim did.

He built up a slow, steady rhythm. Before either of them knew it, their bodies rocked together in perfect harmony. Tim hugged Shane closer, his hips being the driving force while his arms kept Shane grounded.

The sounds leaving Shane’s mouth were so unfamiliar to his own ears, he couldn’t even tell where he was for a moment. The only thing he could feel or think about was the stretch of Tim’s cock, Tim’s heavy breathing against his neck, and Tim’s big hands holding his hips. It was all Tim, Tim, Tim.

He didn’t even feel the tear slowly falling down the side of his face until Tim gently wiped it away. He nearly sobbed when Tim kissed him, chest hitching with every powerful thrust.

Tim grunted every time Shane clenched around him. He was so tight, which he expected, but he was having a hard time keeping a steady rhythm. He was still tired and his body was trying to catch up. He watched the younger man’s face twist in pleasure and sped up a little, moaning down at him.

Shane wailed, one fist curling up tight and weakly hitting against Tim’s chest. “I-I’m close,” he panted, his cock dripping pre-cum onto his stomach. “T-Tim, I’m–”

“‘s okay, I’m here,” Tim groaned, curling his fingers around the younger man’s cock. He started pumping his fist in time with his thrusts, eyes glued to Shane’s face.

Shane nodded furiously, scratching his nails down Tim’s chest. Not long after that, his entire body shook like a leaf and he clenched hard around Tim’s cock, coming in waves. He moaned out loud, his back arching off the bed, and gasping for air.

Tim’s own eyes rolled back as Shane squeezed around him. Shane’s face was turned into the pillow as he breathed heavily, coming down from such a high peak. Tim slowed down some, letting Shane have a moment.

When Shane made eye contact with him again, Tim’s heart stopped. He didn’t think Shane had looked more beautiful than he had right in that moment. His hair was a mess, his face was blotchy and red, there were tear tracks down his cheeks, and his lips were swollen from all the biting. Tim was pulled out of the fantasy when Shane clenched around him again, making a moan bubble out of him.

“C’mon, old man,” Shane smirked, voice tired.

Tim huffed a laugh and hugged Shane close, hips snapping quicker now. Chasing his own release, he hid his face in Shane’s neck, sucking a dark mark against the younger man’s collarbone.

In just a few short, quick thrusts, Tim was following Shane over that ledge with a deep groan, emptying inside the condom.

Shane exhaled deeply, arms wrapped around him. Then, he giggled quietly. He was elated, he was on cloud nine.

Tim lifted his head, hair sticking up every which way. He raised a brow at the younger man and smirked. “You alright?” He chuckled.

Shane nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Good,” Tim grunted, slowly moving out from between Shane’s legs to dispose of the condom. He crawled back into bed and cuddled close, kissing Shane lazily. They both sighed into it. Eventually, they had to come up for air, and when they did, Tim breathed, “You hungry? I’m hungry.”

“God, yes. I’m fucking starving,” Shane groaned.

Tim laughed and rolled his eyes and pressed a light kiss to Shane’s lips. “You like pancakes? I make some really good pancakes.”

Shane giggled, feeling lighter than he had in years.

#shane dio morrissey #dio morrissey #shane morrissey #dio morrissey fanfiction #dio morrissey fic #dio morrissey au #tim rockford #tim rockford fanfiction #tim rockford au #tim rockford smut #tim rockford fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #oaksfics

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forthegothicheroine · 1 year ago

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How Other Great Detectives Would Solve the Riddler Murders

A series I do sometimes. This is based on The Batman (2022). I will be assuming that none of these universes have already established superheroes and supervillains unless it's also in that canon.

Sam Vimes: The Watch as a whole might solve the case, but Vimes is going to be in the wrong headspace. Carcer was bad enough as playful serial killers go, but a serial killer who liked Sam Vimes and wanted to be his best buddy? I think that would make Vimes need his own stay in Arkham.

Sam and Peter: This one is my favorite, it works so horribly well! The Riddler, having been a huge fan of American Vandal, addresses his messages to these two teenage goobers (and it is in fact in the form of vandalism.) Selina ends up saving their lives due to secondhand embarassment when she sees them trying to interview Carmine Falcone about whether he was on any Gothamite subreddits. (Oswald Cobblepot was happy to talk to them about it!) It all comes down to whether the pressure of stopping a serial killer causes the boys to bloom or break, and I'd like to hope it would be the former.

Phryne Fisher: I totally get why the Riddler would fixate on and write letters to Phryne, she's a very good person to fixate on and write letters to! (I've often said she's like if Catwoman were Batman.) Phryne sleeps with Selina and gets surprisingly flirtatious with Oswald. Having already taken down a cocaine ring, she knows enough to honeypot her way into the lower floor of the Iceberg, and very narrowly avoids death at the hands of Falcone. She can solve riddles easily enough, though I don't know if she'd put them together in time to stop the flooding of the city. I'll call this success with a similar casualty rate to Batman's.

Sammy Keyes: This one is a real dick move on the Riddler's part. Addressing your serial killer messages to a tween girl who'd been involved in catching other criminals, thus revealing she's living in an apartment illegally and potentially getting her taken away by social services? It's absolutely something he would do to make a broader social point, but still it's a serious dick move. I think Sammy is way out of her depth here but I want her to succeed because I love the idea of subsequent Sammy Keys books having recurring characters that include the one cop slightly sympathetic to her, the junior high mean girl, and the serial killer who sends her cryptic letters from incarceration.

L: I just know that somehow this is going to involve Edward Nasthon, Forensic CPA, being on the team to catch the Riddler and him and L having a vaguely but unconsumatedly homoerotic dance between friend and enemy. I don't think he'd want to kill L, though, since he'd rather have him alive to acknowledge him as the smartest coolest guy ever, so I'll give L the edge here.

Jane Marple: No matter how I twist it, I just can't see a scenario in which the Riddler would send serial killer messages to Miss Marple. Instead, I think Edward Nashton would just meet her at a tea shop, they'd have a friendly conversation about the novel she's reading, and then she'd call up the police and tell them she's found the Riddler.

Columbo: This isn't a great setup for Columbo, since his method of detection is all about catching people in their lies, which is hard to do with a killer who is a nobody and who keeps to the shadows. He would definitely put Falcone away in the course of the investigation, but I don't know if that's enough to stop the grander scheme in play. If he does catch him, though, he would stop the flood because Edward Nashton would be SO vulnerable to casual conversations about hypothetical approaches to crime.

Philip Marlowe: I think Marlowe would kind of work his way backwards here. He'd get deep into the grime of Gotham, end up stopping a plot to flood the city, follow that up by an investigation into the mob and unconsummated sexual tension with Selina, just barely escape getting murdered by Falcone, get hit on the head by Cobblepot and have hallucinations involving penguins with umbrellas, then finally catch Edward Nashton, the petty little nobody who killed people to make himself feel like somebody.

Dale Cooper: This is a good case for Cooper, lots of subplots that lead into other subplots, nothing overtly supernatural but a vague general feeling of curses and doom. He would find deeper meaning in all the coded riddles that pointed to dark truths about the universe, topped off with dreams of cats and penguins doing his taxes. I sure hope the Riddler is willing to wait for all that before flooding the city, because Coop works at his own damn pace.

Hercule Poirot: I can see Poirot fitting in to the art deco Gotham of the animated series, but the modernist urban grime of the 2021 film is viscerally unpleasant to imagine him in. He could solve the riddles and aid the police, certainly, but more than any of the other detectives, my mind is rebelling against my attempts to imagine these people in the same room at the same time.

Sam Spade: Selina Kyle hires him to help get her friend out of a jam at the same time as Cobblepot hires him to get a few murders discreetly solved before the cops get too nosy, and then Falcone tries to have him whacked when he gets too close on both accounts. The Riddler would take him completely by surprise, but I'm having so much fun imagining Edward Nashton looking up at him with big Peter Lorre eyes and babbling about what crime really means that I'll allow him to at least stick around for that. I think he can get out of this still alive, but it would be a close call.

Kinsey Milhone: Why her, she wonders? Sure, she's a detective, but she's hardly a household name. She goes through all her files to see if this could be connected to anything she's ever worked on, and lo and behold, back when she was an insurance fraud investigator, they always worked with a forensic CPA named Edward Nashton. Now, what could have ever become of that guy...

Sherlock Holmes: Sherlock Holmes either immediately solves this or fails utterly, and it all comes down to how quickly you think he could decode things using a computer.

#great detectives series #the batman 2022

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saphronethaleph · 11 months ago

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Feedback

Thank you for choosing Excellion Star Corporation. We welcome your feedback.

Please describe your involvement with our products.

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Extraplanetary Multiform Mobile Identifier

How would you rate your experience, on a scale of 1 to 5?

1 2 3 4 5

Detailed feedback here.

The capabilities of the E.M.M.I robots I encountered were extremely impressive. I cannot fault the abilities of Excellion to produce a powerful and capable scout robot.

However, I must nevertheless object in the most strenuous possible fashion to other aspects of the robot.

Specifically, their data security is extremely poor. During my recent experiences, all seven of the E.M.M.I robots sent to the world of ZDR were successfully taken over and hacked, reprogrammed and reconfigured so as to specifically target me and attempt to remove a genetic sample from either my head or my torso, using a spike approximately as large as my leg.

In addition, their communication systems are entirely too easy to jam. Despite an encounter with an enemy equipped with a full warsuit raiment comparable to my own, no information was broadcast by any E.M.M.I unit in this respect.

What other changes, if any, would improve your experience and satisfaction?

Remove the giant spike and make it vulnerable to advanced weapons. These are scout robots intended to detect and sample unusual biology. They are not intended to be able to defeat an armoured division.

Yes, I know I said that they tried to kill me. They were not successful. That doesn’t make me any less annoyed.

Additional comments:

I would be interested in ordering one E.M.M.I and using it as a target for orbital bombardment. I will be billing the Galactic Federation for this, under the category of ‘therapy’.

#metroid #metroid dread #samus aran

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glitzglamgunpowder-if · 4 months ago

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ooo what do they act like when jealous? and what would you rate their jealousy out of 10

Alistair/Alice Delacroix (THE RIVAL) - 13/10

They act absolutely insane, that's what. The moment they realize they have feelings for MC, they're determined to be with them forever as A feels love very intensely. Sometimes, this makes people walk on eggshells around MC because they don't want to get A's attention and get dumped on the side of the road like trash 😭 Their approach would be stare "opponent" into submission -> verbal intimidation -> and then physical intimidation if they were in the mood (they may jump around if the other person really gets on their nerves)

Samuel/Samantha "Sam" Kaminski (THE BOSS) - 6/10

I would say Sam is more protective than jealous, so it can go either way depending on who the third wheel is. They wouldn't get into a relationship with someone they wouldn't trust, and they have a lot of self-respect so they wouldn't be too worried about MC leaving them. There is something about themselves that makes them especially vulnerable at the thought of a certain type of people that can "steal" MC away from them but that veers into spoiler territory. But yeah, if they were jealous, they would act casual and pretend like those feelings didn't exist (that would make them appear weak and Sam can't have THAT) so they would introduce themselves to the other person to make things VERY clear

Hendrik/Helena Rietveld (THE BODYGUARD) - 9.5/10

H avoided being in romantic relationships due to their past, so the idea of finally opening themselves up to that possibility with MC is very daunting. This opens up the fear of MC leaving them for someone who is more emotionally available or easier to love. Regardless, they would be very upfront about their jealousy to MC at least, but they would also make it clear that the other person should back off through their tone of voice or intimidating body posture. It's subtle, but it delivers the message. H would be more direct as their relationship becomes more established/well-known to the public

Jesse Lê (THE FRIEND DETECTIVE) - 8/10

Oh Jesse 😭 They feel so so guilty because in their eyes, they abandoned their closest friend when they needed them the most. So the fact that they even get the chance to be with MC is like a divine blessing. I wouldn't say they're jealous, but rather envious because it would be easy for them to justify why the other person is better suited to be with MC more than they are. Like an Oh this sucks but what else did I expect to happen :/ (Unrequited Jesse x MC angst anyone?)

#glitz glam & gunpowder #gg&g: dead drop ✉️#c: the rival #c: the boss #c: the detective #c: the bodyguard

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thoughtportal · 1 year ago

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At least one in five people who have had COVID-19 will develop what is known as “long COVID,” characterized by signs, symptoms, and conditions that continue or well after a COVID-19 infection. According to officials, Detroit has the second highest rate of long COVID in the nation, with over 25% of adults who had COVID-19 reporting long-term symptoms.

In response, a new no-cost mobile health unit is working to provide metro Detroiters with screening for the condition, intending to gather research on long COVID’s effects and bridge the gap to healthcare access in marginalized communities.

On Friday, March 15, declared Long COVID Awareness Day, Michigan Speaker of the House Joe Tate, Michigan Rep. Tyrone Carter, health experts, and community members gathered for an event highlighting the first-of-its-kind CT chest screening program.

The unit was created about a year ago through a partnership between Moderna, Team Wellness Center, People.Health, and other local community organizations.

“Some of our locations service some of the most vulnerable communities in the whole state,” Dani Hourani, Director of Team Wellness Center, said. “It’s very important for us that we are able to bring them resources that they otherwise would not have.”

So far, the screenings have not only helped the impact of long COVID but also been able to detect non-COVID-related illnesses including cancer. Plus, the team has connected patients with further care and testing when needed.

“Whether you’re in Detroit or rural areas, bringing healthcare access directly to the community and partnering with organizations that have that trust with community members is critical,” Tate said at the Friday event. “We still have more work to do to make sure that we lessen the impact of COVID on this community.”

Anyone over 18 who has had COVID-19 and is still experiencing difficulty breathing or other symptoms is encouraged to get scanned. People can fill out a form at People.Health to schedule an appointment.

#metro times #detroit #michigan #COVID #long COVID

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potatomountain · 11 months ago

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CIY- CH 19

Chapter Nineteen

📍Pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍Summary: "Deeper Than You Think"

📍WC: 3.4k

📍AU: detective/mafia

📍Genre: action, dark themes, poly romance

📍Warning(s): 18+ rating, suggestive, milf, slight fxf, slight exhibitionism, creeps

📍Nets: @pirateeznet | @mirohs-aurora-society

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer , @skteezcursed and edited(usually) by the amazing: @daemour

masterlist | Previous | Next

You knew just how dark the underbelly of the city was from your extensive research and the cases you dealt with back in SK, but this still had your stomach churning in disgust. In particular, what you knew about the Red Wolves.

The number of times for the rest of Wooyoung’s ‘tour’ that he had to warn you to stay away from anyone with red studs in their ears that looked like fangs. Red bandana’s or a choker were signs of Red Wolf property and when dusk hit, you saw a frightening amount of people with such indicators.

The idea of being trafficked by them opposed to dying by your new unit’s hands no longer had any appeal; you'd rather take your chances with the two in the car with you.

“While the wolves are the most ruthless, and open about their organization from the main three, we really haven’t made a dent against them. Arrest one member, two more pop up. Free one from their clutches, two end up dead.” Wooyoung was solemn for once, a look in his eyes that spoke of a man you weren’t familiar with. One who was much deeper than just the flirt you thought he was. Perhaps that was the detective in him? Or deeper than that, the real vulnerable man underneath.

It had you conflicted, but just as that glimpse had appeared, it was gone, replaced with his charming half smirk once more. “Anyways, ready?”

Your brows twisted together. “For what?” You looked around, the car parked and Yeosang slurping on some noodles at his desk oblivious to the conversation. You were back downtown in the Pink Boa category, in front of the club that Wooyoung had told you about earlier. Two prostitutes walked across the street and slipped between the car you were in and the one in front of you, pink gemmed chains around each of their waists: Boa’s.

The two women were immediately approached by three men who had red fang studs in their ears, the men that Wooyoung had just been talking about. The warnings of the Red wolves were ringing in your head as Wooyoung was talking about something that wasn’t registering, only because one of the creeps grabbed at the women.

No one else was batting an eye, but you were out of the car before you even realized it, anger surging through you at the look of fear on the girl’s face. “Yo! Hands off buddy!”

Vaguely you heard Wooyoung curse out behind you, but he didn’t get to stop you before you had fully situated yourself between the Boa’s and the wolves, chest to chest with the man who’s wrist was now in your grip just as he had grabbed the woman behind you.

The man certainly didn’t mind, eyes flickering down to your low cleavage and smirking in a way that made your skin crawl. “Are you offering yourself in exchange then, slut?”

You snarled your lip back, pushing him by the wrist to get him away from you. “Fuck off, they’re on my time right now.” You lied through your teeth, hands placed on your hips as you jutted out your chin a bit intimidatingly.

It did get the three men to hesitate, especially when you felt an arm wrap around each of yours. “I told you we weren’t available.” The woman on your right goaded, running her nails up your bicep. You could feel her stare on your features, but you didn’t tear your eyes from the men.

The man on the far left swallowed hard, but not with fear. “How much to watch then?”

“How much to get lost?” You countered instantly, pulling out your wallet for the cash you kept on you. You didn’t have much but you were in too deep to back out now.

Mr. Handsy sneered at your gesture. “Forget it. Come on, we can find more willing prey elsewhere.” He flicked his fingers and turned on his heel, giving you one last look over before scoffing and walking away.

As soon as they were out of ear shot the two girls started squealing. “God that was hot babes.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to stand it if some other sleaze tried to step in.” The other added on, both kissing your cheek before giving you a slight tug closer. “Want to get a room with us? So we can show our gratitude? Free of charge babes, haven’t gotten to share a pretty woman in so long.”

While you certainly appreciated their gratitude, you weren’t oblivious to the way they touched you, light but with clear intentions. It was almost purely sexual until you noticed the way they tried to coax the wallet out of your hand.

Wooyoung pulled you back against him, arm around your waist that was tighter than you expected. “Sorry girls, this one is here to see Madam.”

“Oh it’s Mito.” The first one huffed, suddenly disinterested.

“Boo, that means she’s not on the market.” The smaller, curvier one pouted as she crossed her arms to pout even cuter.

Wooyoung smiled over your shoulder and out of the corner of your eye it almost looked strained. “Yes yes, sorry. We’ll be heading in now.” He pulled you back some more than turned you so his arm was around your lower back but his grip was just as tight as before. He leaned into your ear once you were halfway across the street. “What the fuck was that?”

Oh, he was angry with you.

With a huff, you tried not to let it get to you, keeping your head high. “I couldn’t just watch-”

“Yes you fucking can and you will. This is downtown, have all my warnings gone out your fucking ears?”

You didn’t like his tone, nor the way he was gripping you so tightly, but you waited until you were across the street before pulling away and glaring at him. “I will not, Mito, just sit by and watch. Whether it was my job, no matter my career or place, I won’t. I won’t stand for it.” You snarled out, staring him down unwaveringly.

He broke first, shutting his eyes for a brief moment before smiling down at you. “We’ll talk about this later. You really have no idea how it runs, what flies down here, how to play the game-”

“Then teach me, but know that I will not follow rules I don’t like. If that includes watching a woman, no matter her affiliation or career, get harassed to the point fear is obvious, I will not.” You stepped back even more taking note his anger seemed to have passed, or at least wasn’t at the forefront.

No, he seemed almost… elated as he stepped closer and grabbed your hip, pulling you flat against him, lips close enough it would be so easy to close the distance and kiss.

“Then would you go against the rules and laws to protect someone in that sense? Someone who lives here, who works the corner, who has blood on their hands if they’re in trouble and you see it?” He whispered against your cheek, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, teasing your skin he exposed.

“Wooyoung-” Yeosang’s voice warned in both of your ears before you had a chance to reply.

With a huff he pulled away, now grabbing your hand. “Come on, you have a job interview.” He was pouty as he pulled you into the night club, past the bouncer who nodded at him. It wasn’t lost on you how you two skipped the line without a single word, like he worked here or something.

Or something was probably more accurate, every working girl smiled or giggled at him as you both passed. A dance floor to the right takes up over half the club, with booths along the wall and a large bar to your left run by three people with a dancer on a small stage on either side. You could make out kitchen doors behind one of the dancers in clubbing attire, but it was quickly pushed out of sight as you headed up secluded stairs to a second floor.

While the dancefloor was mostly exposed from this floor, due to the waist high thick railing the activities up here were much more secluded; that included the private booths that lined the walls above the floor, just out of sight. The bouncers didn’t stop Wooyoung from pulling you to the right, away from the open area and clubbing below, to a hall that had a sign hanging above reading “employees only”.

Since you missed his explanation, you could sort of hear Yeosang in your ear repeating the plan. “You’ll be meeting the madam of the club for a position as a bartender or waitress, but don’t accept anything for dancing. You should do well enough but also remember not to freak out at the customers.” The rest of his warnings fell on deaf ears as you stepped around a corner in the hall where another bouncer was, this one stopping you both by holding up his hand.

You immediately took notice of the gold chain on his wrist with three rings for a charm. A sign of the Golden circle. It made sense that at least one of the workers here would be one, considering the Pink Boas were their subgroup. But something also felt so out of place of once single Golden Circle this far from the rest of the business of the club.

Not that you had time to dwell on it.

Wooyoung didn’t speak to the bouncer, giving him only a moment to step aside before he took you forward. You passed a few doors with odd symbols, stopping in front of a door with a golden snake in a circle, the one eye of it a pink topaz that felt almost like a warning. And in a way, it was.

He had brought you right to the head of the Pink Boas.

You swallowed hard, trying not to let the sudden onslaught of nerves show. This was not the head of one of the six, but a subgroup, one that was all female and probably the least intimidating group to come face to face with.

Wooyoung smiled over at you, brushing your hand with his own. “Don’t worry Goddess, you’ll do fine. When in doubt, do what I do or Yeosang says.”

You rolled your eyes. “Because that’s going to get me the job.” You laid the sarcasm on heavy, getting a dry chuckle out of him before he knocked in an odd rhythm. Three times, pause, then once, another pause, then two more times.

The door opened almost instantly, an older woman with a stone expression standing on the other side. You had a moment to admire the perfection of her makeup, the subtle extravagance of her outfit, and the way she carried herself all before she was turning her back to you both and stepping further inside.

Wooyoung motioned for you to go first, stepping in behind you and letting the door shut behind him. The cool demeanor of the woman shifted immediately as she swirled on her heel and was now beaming at you, hands clasped in front of her. “Oh I’m so happy to finally meet you!”

You were shell-shocked before you were pulled into a hug, the flowery scent of her perfume an undertone to something more earthy, but not unpleasant. Almost homey which was an odd thing to think of a woman who ran a sub-mafia family. But not as odd as the fact she was hugging you so tightly.

Glancing at Wooyoung in a panic, he laughed and gently pried each other apart. “Easy easy, I told you not to do that!”

“But you would not stop talking about her! I was really excited alright?” The woman pouted as she smoothed out your clothes, a twinkle in her eye. “We’ll have to get you into something less gaudy for your job here. Wooyo tells me you have bar experience?”

“Wha-”

“Wooyoung, how much did you tell her?” Yeosang sounded exasperated in your ear, but you were still lost.

Wooyoung shrunk away from your gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. “I can’t help it, Sang- not when it’s…” He trailed off but you weren’t going to wait for him to clarify.

“I’m sorry but can someone fill me in? You’re the head of the Boa’s right? The symbol was a dead give away. I thought this was a job interview.”

The woman laughed, pushing some of your hair behind your ear before and noticing the ear piece. “You can call me Haru, and this is a job interview. Wooyo already filled me in, and I promise you will come to no harm here.”

Your brow furrowed in even more confusion before it fully hit. “Oh- I see. That… is not what I expected. Are you really?” You chose your words carefully, hoping she would catch on.

“Whatever you are thinking, yes. He can explain later I’m sure. He referred to you as Goddess but I don’t think that will be a good cover here. How about Dalnim? You’ll be referred to as Dal by the other workers.” She explained before sitting against the edge of her desk. “I don’t care what you see here and what you tell him, but the one thing I do care about is that if it’s concerning my girls you inform me first. Understand?”

“I- hold up. Hold the fuck up.” You had to put your hands up, turning on your heel to start pacing, nibbling on your thumb. “Explain.” You spoke to Yeosang in your ear, but Wooyoung opened his mouth to do so. You pointed a finger at him, a stern glare on your features. “You shut up, I’ll deal with you later.”

Yeosang was silent for a moment, you could tell from the fact you heard no sound what-so-ever he probably had himself muted. You heard a click a moment later, and it wasn’t Yeosang’s voice that spoke.

“Sorry about this Firecracker, are you going to back out?” Hongjoong’s voice rumbled in your ear and you stiffened in your spot, breath hitching a bit.

“Captain- are we really going to-” Yeosang was pleading in the background, and someone else was there.

You glanced at Wooyoung for a moment, his eyes on the floor. Where did his confidence go? He looked nervous, and not just from a scolding from his Captain. Haru was staring you down with a look of curiosity that seemed familiar, but it was when she grinned that you realized something else.

She resembled Wooyoung quite a bit, like a softer, more mature version. She laughed when she saw it click on your features, a nod giving you the confirmation.

This was, by far, so much deeper than you ever thought. But your earlier suspicion had also been confirmed: She knew you were a detective, she knew Wooyoung was, and she was setting you up and giving you permission to use this position as a way to gather information.

Wooyoung was providing you the perfect undercover, with someone he clearly trusted with his life.

“No, I’m not backing out.” The words escaped you the moment you made up your mind, announcing to those present and those not. “So this position, I’m just bartending right? Starting simple? I can do that.” You straightened your shoulders, regaining your confidence.

Haru smiled wider, clapping her hands together. “Oh Wooyoung was right, you are such a smart woman. Capable too. Yes, that is the case. I can give you more details on your first day, but first… I need to make sure you leave here safely.”

She waved at Wooyoung dismissively, pointing towards the door as she stepped over to you. The way she moved was captivating, her whole demeanor becoming seductive, predatory even, like a snake coiling back to attack it’s prey. Her tongue even ran over her vibrant pink lips as if to taste the air.

Her hand was on your neck the second the door was shut. “Now that I have you alone, almost, let me give you the real welcome.” She pulled the earpiece out of your ear and slipped it into your pocket while she swiveled you towards the desk.

While you knew, logically, that you should be afraid, intimidated even, you were not. It didn’t matter her relation to Wooyoung, or how you felt about the unit- which was in dire need of being questioned- she was the head of the Pink Boas. A very capable woman who had risen in the Golden Circle enough to establish this sub group and make it her own. A woman capable of running the downtown underbelly, successful businesses, and navigating it all with such ease you hadn’t even know she had a son.

You couldn’t be intimidated, instead admiring her too much to feel any real threat from her. Because if you had been, you were sure you wouldn’t have made it here, right now. Though when she leaned in, lips brushing against your ear, your breath hitched in anticipation.

Your real name cascading from her lips in a low, sultry tone might be enough to make any woman gay for her. “Listen very carefully now. I”m going to tell you something, but I need you to act for me so he doesn’t hear. So no one does.” She bit down on the shell of your ear, chuckling when your breath hitched in an almost moan.

“Yes ma’am.”

She laughed a bit, hands pushing your shirt and touching you everywhere almost as if feeling you up, but it seemed more strategic than that. You let out a loud moan for her, remembering how you had faked it for the two neighbors not that long ago. This felt easier, since the little touches were turning you on just a bit.

“That’s it, such a good girl. You’ll treat him right won’t you?” She whispered as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “I know you’re still so new, that you don’t know much of anything really, but I want you to. Do you want to? Do you want to be a part of what he and his little friends have going on?”

“Y-yes Mommy. I do-” You whined out, purposely adding that just to fuck with Wooyoung.

Haru laughed breathlessly, a hand now in your hair messing it up as she tugged it back. “I want you to learn everything about them, and I’ll help you baby girl, but you have to promise me something. And if you ever- ever - break that promise…” He teeth scraped your neck before she sucked a hickey there, making you moan out for real. Oh this woman knew just what she was doing.

“Well, you’re a smart girl, I think you know just what would happen if you did, yeah?”

“Yes yes-”

“Good good. Now that promise is that no matter what you learn, you never hold it against them. Especially not my little boy. Because if you hurt him, pretty girl, you’ll suffer worse. And you know you will, with how fucking prettily you melted in my arms like this.” Almost as if she couldn’t help herself, she cupped your mound between your legs and squeezed in a way that stimulated your clit.

“Fuck-” You whined out, for a split second forgetting what you were supposed to say. “Y-yes I promise Mommy. Promise. C-can I come now?” You whined, playing your part perfectly.

She gave your mound a little pat before stepping back, laughing under her breath as she nodded. “I almost feel bad for playing with you knowing his intentions.” She muttered to herself as you cried out, faking an orgasm for the listening ears, but you didn’t miss what she said.

Haru let you leave after that, making sure your clothes were still a mess and the hickey on display. You couldn’t meet Wooyoung’s gaze when you did, nor could you put the earpiece back in.

But as you passed the Golden circle bouncer, you noticed how intently he looked you over, eyes lingering on the forming hickey on your neck, a scowl forming. That’s how it clicked, that bouncer wasn’t there to guard Haru, but watch her.

You just got yourself into some really deep shit.

Taglist (form): @mingsolo | @wowie-hockey | @crispybaguettes | @tiny-apocalypse

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

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