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#the four of them have one brain cell
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💖✨love is love✨💖
silent hill sewers lgbt club is now in session
source pic under the cut
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augustslippedavvay · 2 years
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girl where did u go? i miss ur content 🥺
😭 i'm so sorry bb i am still here i am just sad and tired and cold all the time
i haven't written in so long i feel so bad
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nxuvillette · 4 months
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BEHIND THE SCENES — OLIVER AIKU
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synopsis: you and oliver’s sex tape had gotten leaked onto twitter. your relationship comes to a halt, but once you reconnect, you recall what happened that night he filmed your sexual encounter with each other.
❥- pairings : oliver aiku x fem!reader
❥- note : thank you to @flseur for helping me with this idea !! i seriously couldn’t have done it without you <3. i hope you all enjoy !! reblogs are appreciated !!
content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, secret relationship, personal trainer!reader, some brief angst, non consensual video sharing (oliver did not share it !), mentions of food, use of pet names (baby , princess , good girl), consensual recording, unprotected sex, begging, praising, marking, breeding kink, creampie, brief choking.
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The sun spread its golden rays into your bedroom through the beige curtains that blanketed your windows. It was your day off. You enjoyed nothing more than taking in an extra hour or two of sleep. It was your normal routine during the weekends, so you decided to roll over onto the other side of your bed and try and focus on sleeping. 
BUZZ!
Your phone would normally vibrate throughout the morning or even during the night. You had friends who would send you Instagram posts or even text you to ask about meeting for coffee on a certain day. It wasn’t unusual at all, so you didn’t really pay much attention to your cell phone. You were too drowned in sleep to even bat an eye.
BUZZ!
BUZZ!
BUZZ!
BUZZ!
Your sleepy eyes opened slightly at the sound of four consecutive notifications. You didn’t know who was messaging you at this early hour, but it was getting kind of annoying. Part of you wanted to put your phone on do not disturb, but the laziness of being in bed only sucked you back into the mattress you were resting on. It was probably nothing. Your friends were probably just blowing up your phone with posts or other random shit. It was never that important.
BUZZ!
BUZZ!
BUZZ!
An annoyed sigh left your lips. Who the hell was spamming you? You wondered if it was Isagi who had something stupid to say sometimes, but when you lifted your phone off the bedside table, you were surprised to see that it wasn’t him. There were multiple text messages coming from not just your close friends, but one of your clients, Oliver Aiku.
Your eyes scanned over the messages, furrowing your brows at the contents of them.
Kunigami: umm.. is this you??
Isagi: hey, y/n, idk if you’ve gone online buy something is out there and i really hope you’re alright.
Oliver: y/n
Oliver: y/n please pick the fuck up right now
Oliver: this is not the time to be ignoring me we need to talk asap.
Sae: wtf is going on??
Oliver: y/n please call me when you have the chance
Confusion covered your body at the concerns of your friends. Isagi’s message confused you the most, though, because what did he mean something happened online? You weren’t really big on social media like that. Sure, you had a few thousand followers on Twitter and Instagram, but by no means were you some kind of influencer or celebrity online. You preferred it that way. Having too much attention was overwhelming and you never liked the spotlight to begin with.
You swiped out of your messages and went onto Twitter. To your surprise, your notifications were blowing up and your small number of followers had jumped seemingly overnight. It made you even more confused now, because what happened? You didn’t post any tweets that could go viral, so what was all of this attention for? It wasn’t until you pressed a video you were tagged in that you realized what you were going viral for. 
Immediately, you recognized yourself. You were lying in the bed of your client, Oliver Aiku, and he was fucking the shit out of you. Everything about that night had rushed back into your brain at light speed. You remembered giving Oliver permission to record the sex you were having, but you never allowed him to post it. Neither of you wanted something like that to get out, and it was like a nightmare knowing that it was out and so many people had seen it. There was this pit in your gut that made you sick to your stomach. Did Oliver leak it? Did he show it or send it to someone else and they released it? You were pissed, hurt, but most of all, you felt embarrassed. Hundreds of people saw you at your most vulnerable and who knows what might happen to you now that this was public news. 
You left Twitter and searched for Oliver’s contact. It made sense why he was messaging you so much. He must have seen it way before you did. 
You pressed the call option and it began to ring, but after a few seconds, he picked up. “(Y/N)! Thank god..” he sounded panicked, which annoyed you. “I dunno how-“
“Oliver, what the fuck?! How did this happen?! Did you fucking leak it or send it to someone? Be honest with me, because I’m so fucking.. mortified right now.” you were very angry, more angry than you had ever been in your life. You knew what kind of man he was, so it wouldn’t have shocked you if he was the one to share your business.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before speaking to you again. He was well aware of how bad this looked. Things like this happen all of the time to women without their knowledge, and it’s a disgusting matter. He understood your feelings completely. “(Y/N).. I didn’t leak the tape, I promise. I would never ever share something like that with anyone else. Baby, you know I’m not that kind of guy..” he sounded upset, but also genuine at the same time. 
You shook your head, staring at the ceiling. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but all of this seemed way too sketchy. Oliver was always a ladies man and it was shocking enough that he wanted to have a relationship with you that wasn’t just professional, so maybe it was just too good to be true. “Then how did it get out? It doesn’t make sense, Oliver. I know you’re a good guy.. but how do I know you’re not lying to me right now?” you questioned, looking down at the floor.
Oliver sighed, knowing you had somewhat of a point. Given the circumstances, it made sense why you would accuse him of doing such a thing, but he genuinely liked you. He would never do that to anyone. “My manager was telling me that I should start moving shit off of my iCloud because people are hacking, so I must have forgotten to move it and someone more than likely hacked into it and posted it.” he said. “I promise, baby, I would never do that to you. I like you so much.. I couldn’t do that even if I wanted to.”
You didn’t reply for a few seconds. It did seem likely that his cloud could have gotten hacked, but still, it didn’t help that the video was now out there for the world to see. Many strangers saw your body and your voice. It made you feel dirty and it was such an uncomfortable feeling. Oliver probably didn’t fully understand how you felt, but you weren’t about to argue with him on that. 
“I want to take a break, Oliver.”
There was silence on the other end for a few moments. You could tell that Oliver wasn’t happy with it based on his reaction, but this was all too much for you. This could destroy your life and even career opportunities. “Right.. um, I understand, (Y/N).” he broke the silence. “I’m sorry again.. I was an idiot to not properly protect our privacy. I’m here if you need anything, always.”
After that, the phone suddenly hung up. He didn’t even give you any warning, but you knew it upset him. It wasn’t like either of you meant for this to happen, but it was a very serious matter. You didn’t want your family seeing that or someone you were good friends with. You needed time to clear your head and just be by yourself for a little while. Things like this don’t just pass overnight, so you wanted to disconnect for a bit.
TWO MONTHS LATER 
The aroma of coffee filled your nose as you sat in the cafe. Many people entered and exited with their orders and others sat down to use the wifi that the cafe offered to do work. 
You sat at one of the tables beside the window. A few small snowflakes danced onto the ground from the sky. It was quite a chilly day. The wind was like glass being cut against your skin and bundling up didn’t exactly help with the sheer cold. You were kind of nervous. It was the first time in two months that you had seen Oliver in person, and you both decided to meet up after not speaking with one another for a while. It was going to be awkward and you knew that, but you wanted to at least see him and talk.
You shifted around when you noticed Oliver stepping into the cafe. His eyes immediately lit up when he saw you sitting by yourself at the table. He looked the same as ever. His stubble was a bit shorter and he had that same haircut he usually had. 
The stool screeched when he pulled it out to sit across from you. You didn’t want this to feel weird or awkward, so you put on the bravest face you could find and smiled at him. “Hey.. long time no see, how are you?” you placed your hands around the coffee cup which was still warm. 
He took in your appearance and couldn’t help but grin as well at you. Oliver couldn’t lie, he missed you a lot. You were once his everything and to lose you made him feel like shit. He knew he fucked up back then and he wanted to make things better again between you two. “I’m doing okay, you? How have you been? I kind of missed you..” he said, reaching over to place his hand atop of yours.
His touch was like electricity on your skin. It had been so long since you felt him against you. Not seeing him for so long brought back so many reminders as to why you were into him in the first place. “I missed you too..” you replied. “I’ve just been managing lately. After everything, I took a break from social media and such. I was lucky enough to keep my job.”
Oliver felt a sting in his heart at the situation. He knew this was ten times worse for you than it was for him. He was mocked by a few of his teammates who didn’t know what the hell they were talking about, but he knew it was much more bad for you than it was for him. “I see.. I’m glad to see you, though. You look good.” he tried soothing you the best he could, even if it didn’t work as well. 
“Look, I.. I know that wasn’t entirely your fault for what happened. I shouldn’t have just thrown it all on you, but I’m over it.” you looked at him with seriousness all over your expression. “The video was taken down and I don’t want that to define me whatsoever, so I forgive you, Oliver.”
He seemed genuinely relieved to hear that you didn’t hate him. He thought you were going to knock him out and whoop the shit out of him for what happened. He truly didn’t mean for any of this to happen. He cared for you deeply and the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt or hate him. “I appreciate that.. and again, I’m sorry. This was my fault for not being smart enough.” he said, squeezing your hand tightly. 
You smiled at him. “Trust me, it’s okay, you couldn’t have known this was going to happen. I promise..” you replied.
Both of you sat there for a few moments just taking in the atmosphere around you. It was all familiar to you. That’s what you liked the most about Oliver. He made you feel safe and you felt like you could genuinely be yourself around him. You missed him a lot. It took a lot in you to not reach out, but after some time, you figured you would patch things up with him. He was your client, after all. Being his personal trainer meant you’d see him more often and the last thing you wanted was for things to become awkward.
His thumb brushed against your palm, making eye contact with you at the same time. “I wanna take you out.. I don’t care if people see us together.” he lifted your hand to kiss it. 
Your cheeks felt hot at his proposal. Normally, you two kept things pretty private, but seeing that he didn’t care about it being public, it made you happy. “I’d love that..” you grinned, looking at him with a happy glint in your eyes.
While sitting there, you began to remember what had happened the night you and Oliver had hooked up. At that point, you two had been seeing each other for a month or two. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to come over to his place after having a workout, but that night was different. You could feel it when Oliver kept brushing his hands against yours, or the way he stood a little too close to your ass which led his aching cock to brush against it. It didn’t take long for you to end up on the bed inside his bedroom. 
Oliver’s lips touched against your skin. His teeth grazed against the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, licking and sucking to leave a mark that would be visible to anyone. His large hands were all over your body. He wasted zero time tearing off your leggings and pulling down your sports bra to reveal your pretty tits he had spent so much time eyeing. He was so gentle. He left a trail of wet kisses on the valley between your breasts and then down towards your navel. He thought your body was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He spent so much time fantasizing about what he’d do if he was alone with you, and now that moment had come. He wasn’t going to let it slip through his fingers so easily.
A smirk appeared on his features when he saw the damp spot soaking through your panties. He hooked his fingers under the hem and pulled the fabric down from your thighs, exposing your pretty cunt. His cock hardened immediately when he saw how wet you were. Fuck, you really were perfect in every way possible. “Shiitt, all this for me, princess?” he chuckled, spreading your thighs apart to see your pretty hole.
You whimpered when you felt his breath fan over your pussy. You were practically throbbing over the fact that he was hovering over you. “Y-Yes..” you moaned. “Oliver, please.. I need you..” 
He was surprised to see that you were tugging at his shirt to bring him closer. Who was he to deny you of what you wanted? He then tossed off his shirt, throwing it somewhere into his bedroom. You shivered when you watched him pull down his shorts, revealing his cock that was leaking pre-cum around the tip. A happy trail went down from his stomach all the way to his pubes that were properly trimmed. You had seen him shirtless many times before, but seeing his dick made you even more turned on. 
The tip of his cock slid against your clit. You moaned softly at the contact it made with your body. You wanted him inside you so badly. You didn’t even have the desire to make him do foreplay. “Ready for me, baby..?” he looked down at you, positioning his cock at your entrance. 
You nodded, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. “Yes.. so ready..” you looked at him with desperate eyes. 
Oliver then pushed himself into you. A sharp gasp slipped through your lips at the sensation of his cock filling your cunt. The stretch was intense. You felt like you could hardly take him from how big he was. He was only halfway in and you already felt so full from just that. The burn felt too good. You couldn’t help but dig your fingernails into his shoulder blades. Oliver didn’t mind the pain, though. He was losing it right about now. You were so tight and the way your pussy hugged his cock was so perfect. He couldn’t help but groan at how much pleasure he was feeling. Where the hell had you been? 
Once given the go ahead to move, Oliver set himself at a rougher pace. He wanted to go slow, but he couldn’t keep fighting with himself. Any restraint he had early on was now diminishing with every rut of his hips. He was so lost within you. He couldn’t think of anything else. 
Your cries of pleasure were uncontrollable at that point. His cock was bullying your walls and reaching places inside you that made your body melt for him. It didn’t help that he had all the stamina in the world from being a pro athlete. He could probably go on for hours without feeling tired. “Oliver! God, yes! M-More! I need more!” you whined, making eye contact with him. 
He smirked at how needy you were for him. Oliver never imagined he’d have you underneath him like this. His cock stuffing your pussy, making you sob from how good it was. This was all a dream for him, and he was so thankful it had finally come true. “Yeah? More, baby? Fuck, I’ll give you more..” he then reached over to his bedside table, grabbing his cell phone that had been discarded for almost an hour now. “Wanna be on camera, princess..?”
Your head shook almost instantly at his request. You trusted Oliver more than anything. Plus, it was kind of thrilling to you that you would be filmed. It made you clench around him just a little tighter when the thought crossed your mind. “Yes..” you spat out.
Oliver then held his phone above you. He moved your legs so your knees were now nearly touching the bed you were lying on. It gave him the perfect view of everything. You were a bit stunned at first when the flash turned on, but none of that mattered to you. You were too lost in bliss to think about that. 
He began to play with your puffy clit, sending multiple waves of pleasure to wash over you. He thought you looked so fucking cute. He knew he made the right choice in finding you that day. You were everything Oliver Aiku ever wanted in a woman. “Like that..? Look at you.. bein’ such a good girl while I fuck you..” he grunted. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna ruin you..”
Oliver tossed his phone aside, focusing solely on you once again. His pace picked up. It was so fast that you saw stars in your vision whenever he reached your g-spot. His balls smacked against your throbbing clit, creating some lewd noises that filled the room. Beads of sweat trickled down Oliver’s gorgeous body, leaving a nice shine to his skin and his muscles. He looked so hot above you. You wished you could snap a photo of him so you could remember that night forever.
The burning pit inside your stomach was only growing larger with every thrust. Oliver could feel your pussy slowly becoming tighter around him. He knew you were close. You had become so desperate for that release. It was clawing at you like an animal wanting to escape from its cage. “O-Oliver.. I’m close!” you moaned, closing your legs just a little so your knees were now against his waist.
He chuckled at the sound of that. He wanted to make you cum so hard that you couldn’t think straight for days. You were so pretty and perfect for him. “C’mon, princess, cum all over this dick..” he leaned down to capture your lips into a sloppy kiss. “Show me how much of a good girl you are..”
At that moment, you finally let go around him. Your pussy clamped around his cock and Oliver’s hips stuttered from the feeling. Your cum coated his cock nicely, making squelching noises accumulate from how wet you were. He couldn’t help but smile at how great you did. You were calling out his name like it was a prayer, and he loved nothing more than to hear that. You were addictive. He didn’t think he could find someone better than you in this life. 
Oliver’s hand found its way around your throat. You watched him with glassy eyes as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your body felt like it was on fire. Your thighs were shaking and you couldn’t even form proper sentences from how fucked out you were. “Where do you want me to cum, baby..?” he asked, squeezing your throat slightly to restrict your breathing for a brief moment.
“I-Inside..! Inside me, please..!” you managed to say with a whiny tone. 
You were so fucking dirty. He loved it.
Oliver clenched his teeth as he increased his thrusts once again. His cock was twitching inside of you and his balls started to feel tight from his release being so close. “Fuck.. ‘gonna cum so hard inside you..” he grunted. “Make this pussy all mine.. you’re all mine, got it? N-No one can fuck you this good.. or breed you as well as I can, baby. Shit.. say it, say you’re mine..”
You did exactly as he wanted, grinning in the process. “I’m y-yours..” you whimpered.
A groan rumbled in his throat as he finally reached his climax. His cum gushed into your pussy, filling your womb with white. There was this rush of warmth that spread across your abdomen when he came inside you. It was so good. It made you crave it more. 
Oliver panted, staring down at you to see if there were any signs of discomfort on your end, but he was relieved to see that there weren’t any. You seemed very drowsy and tired from his point of view, but regardless, you looked beautiful. He couldn’t get enough of your beauty. How could someone like you fall into his lap like that? You were too great for him. He knew he was going to cherish you. 
Oliver vowed to never let you go, no matter what.
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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miinatozakiii · 6 months
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can we get even closer?
detective!jihyo x spiderwoman!reader (pt. 3, finale!) ; smut, fluff
synopsis: spiderwoman becomes 10x more alluring AND convincing, detective park is completely disregarding the chief at this point.
wc: 11.7k
warnings: blood ; mentions of wounds, cuts, bruises ; smut!!!
pls read for context: pt.1, pt.2
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the crime scene was a messy tapestry of deception and disorder.
jihyo scanned the mess of a venue. there were flipped-over tables, pieces of chairs, and debris scattered all over the venue—even a light had fallen from the ceiling—it was a sight.
the cluttered, frenzied scene wasn't even the worst part; to tell the truth, what made it worse was seeing her colleagues all stuck together tangled up in spiderwebs against the wall.
the chief included in the mess.
the chief was tangled up alone, arms and legs restrained with only his head free. he seemed infuriated; this does not help your case. the chief will hate your guts even more, and if he catches you, he might rip them out.
jihyo has her final conclusion made up in her head after fully processing the mess in front of her: you have one functioning brain cell.
the officers and chief aren't the only ones captured, there's an apparent culprit tied together in a large, thicker layer of cobweb: the lizard.
it's green, it's ugly, and it's huge—jihyo furrows her brows at the sight—but her face lights up when she sees the familiar silhouette of the special spider-like "hero."
you stand there in front of the grotesque reptile, gazing at it with slumped shoulders and heavy breaths. you're exhausted and aching from the very physically demanding task. on the bright side: there are no broken bones or any limbs missing—that's a plus—though there are a few scratches that rip the new suit you had just gotten. you sigh at the thought of having to face your suit designer nayeon. you really don't want to hear her complaints again.
the thought of nayeon yelling in your ear distracts you from the blood that seeps out the cuts on your body and the pain from the sore areas that will surely be dark, annoying bruises—though the thought of that nayeon pulling at your ear and bickering with you doesn't distract you forever, the discomfort in your abdomen returns and you almost fall over.
screw that ugly ass lizard.
jihyo runs over to your side, looking at your weary state.
"y/n-" jihyo catches herself, immediately quieting down when uttering the last part of your name. she watches her words even if she's not in the field of vision of the officers, they still have ears afterall. "spiderwoman, are you okay?" jihyo asks, looking at the cuts in your suit.
"yeah." you respond, and you're lying your ass off because you think you might fall over soon. "just a bit beat up, could've been worse."
“you think a stab to the stomach is comparable to a paper cut. " the detective sighs, “that doesn’t make this any better.”
it’s evident in her tone that she’s worried. your heart feels heavy knowing that she feels like that for you, but you don't want to overwhelm her anymore. you put your hand on her shoulder and her eyes soften. her look almost hurts more than that stupid pain in your stomach.
"park," you say softly, "i'm fine."
“you’re not.”
"i need to change back and leave, keep an eye on the lizard?"
"y/n-"
"it's spiderwoman." you say sternly. your voice had lost any hint of playfulness, now it’s more of a croaked-out, low tone.
"sorry, i just-"
"let's talk later, yeah?" you urge. jihyo nods with disappointment. 
you smile as you shoot a web up, looking at her with the same softness before pulling yourself and swinging away.
jihyo's jaw tightens up.
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you don’t break into jihyo’s house or even show up at the department for four days and counting. that’s 96+ hours of jihyo not seeing you, of her having all these questions swarming in her brain with no answers and 96+ hours of missing you. detective park is running out of patience.
jihyo spins the pen in her hand while examining the papers related to the “lizard” case, i mean, there’s not much to do since the lizard-man had been captured after turning back to normal, but jihyo had to do a brief check before going back to the prison to interrogate the human form of that nightmare.
the identity of the lizard was found after it had transformed back into a slender, fragile man: dr. watanabe, lead scientist at minatozaki industries and former friend of the chief.
the chief seemed to be slowly losing it after the whole event—who wouldn’t be after having to ask your detective to cut you and the rest of your coworkers out of the spiderweb that was shot from the wrists of the person you went on a whole tangent about not trusting—exactly.
it’s been hectic.
the detective shoves the papers back into the folder before heading into the room that holds the visitation booths, which is empty and only has one guard present. she runs a hand through her hair before nodding at the guard and sitting at booth three.
her foot taps at the ground as she waits—not because she’s anxious—it’s just a habit she’s had since college.
there’s the sound of the door opening and not even five seconds later the scientist sits in front of her. he looked terrible: bags under his eyes, brows creased, and hair disordered—that’s not like him at all. jihyo takes out a paper from the folder and holds the black telephone handle close to her ear.
“you’ve finally agreed to talk.”
“against my will, where’s the chief.” watanabe spits back through the line. jihyo shoots a look that has the scientist shrinking in his seat.
“not here.” she says sternly, “now i would really appreciate if you could be competent since you’ve caused so much trouble.”
“bring me that damn chief and i’ll talk, they said he’d be here.”
“he’s not here, so quit whining. i have some questions that you need to answer, i’d advise that you respond well and with a compliant attitude.” the detective warns threateningly.
the scientist makes eye contact once with jihyo then looks back down, ready to answer with his hand clutching the telephone handle tightly.
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jihyo ends up leaving the visitation booth with sluggish shoulders and a paper with rushed, messy jotted-down notes of the criminals’ answers and puts it in her bag. once she steps outside into the afternoon light, she’s quick to stretch out her arms, groaning at the relieving sensation.
“hi.”
that voice is very familiar.
the detective turns and her eyes widen at the sight of you. you’re standing there with a smile, warm and friendly.
a dark, navy sweater sits loosely on your figure, and your hair is tied up. you look beautiful, and not as beat up as jihyo figures you should look (i mean, you literally had a whole wwe match with a lizard a couple days ago, so it’s surprising to say the least). you seem content, you seem perfectly fine and jihyo hates that you haven’t bothered her. where have you been?
jihyo stares at you in awe, well, maybe with some confusion and a hint of anger too. she wants to ask where you’ve been, i mean, it’s been days and you haven’t knocked on her window, she had even waited by that stupid window of hers with the hope that you’d barge in. she wants to ask how you’ve been doing, if your injuries been bothering you maybe and if your cuts healed. jihyo wants to know everything, from how you’re doing physically to what’s going on in that smoothed-out brain of yours. (jihyo has many questions, too many, and it has her silent in her place while she gapes at you.)
you play with the neckline of your sweater. “it’s getting pretty cold, huh.”
jihyo thinks you’re unbelievable.
“where have you been?” jihyo asks, walking up to you and pushing you playfully (fighting the urge to hold your and look at you with desire like in those cliché romance movies where the leads love interest shows up after being missing—or something like that at least. [park jihyo watches too many dramas]) she furrows her brows a little, looking at you with a tad of shock in her expression.
you tilt your head and ask, “why are you looking at me like that.”
“you’ve been gone for what, four days?” jihyo says, raising her brows. a couple people passing by glance in your direction when jihyo raises her voice, but she doesn’t care, that’s the last thing she cares about. “you haven’t called, texted, or even showed up to your own uncles workplace! you haven’t even-“ and jihyo cannot believe she’s about to say this: “you haven’t broken into my apartment or anything!”
a short silence fills the air before your eyes soften the same way they did before leaving jihyo at that venue—right after finishing up your business.
you let out a brief, soft sigh. “i’m sorry, it’s a lot.”
“yeah, it is.” jihyo huffs, losing the worry in her tone as relief fills in.
a grin plays at your lips, “i did say i would explain everything,” you start, “and i did say i’d take you out, and on me too…”
jihyo crosses her arms and mumbles, “you did.”
“that’s only if the detective would let me…?”
the weight on jihyo’s shoulders is completely knocked off and she chuckles at your response, quickly losing the serious façade.
 “i have to drop this off at work, maybe i’ll let you once i do.”
you grin. “great.”
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you end up as passenger princess in jihyo’s white, glossy bmw.
saying the car is nice would be a huge understatement. the interior is even more fascinating compared to the exterior, and that says a lot. the seats are clean, comfy, and from the texture, you can tell it’s authentic and expensive leather. the car is pretty spotless other than the water bottle in the cup holder and that reusable tote bag that seemed to have been thrown at the backseats blindly. the car smells fresh—something woody, minty, and there’s also a hint of apple—it’s welcoming and really fits the detective.
“comfy?” jihyo asks, turning on the engine.
“yeah.” you reply, feeling a little intimidated for no reason.
jihyo chuckles at you and shifts the stick, lightly steps on the gas, then looks at the screen in the car as she backs up. there should be no reason for this to be so attractive, i mean, you’ve seen many people back up a car, nothing special, but when jihyo does it you find yourself wanting her a little more.
the two of you end up at the department less than ten minutes later. despite how unbelievably close and flirty you’ve gotten with the detective; the whole car ride was way too intimate for your liking, and your nerves were a mess.
the car was so nice it had you feeling tense, jihyo was driving with such ease and looked so damn good with those sunglasses she had on. you felt small in the passenger seat. thankfully, you’re a few turns away from the department.
“i need to tell you something.” you say, making jihyo hum.
“what is it?”
“i can’t go into the department, i’m, well… i’ll tell you later but long story short my uncle cannot see me and i’m technically kind of on house arrest.”
“you’re what?”
“long story.”
the light turns red, the detective breaks smoothly then turns to look at you, curiosity and disbelief making her brows furrow.
“why am i not surprised that the chief would do something like that.” jihyo sighs, looking back at the stoplight—it’s green now. “he’s been on edge lately ever since the incident, he’s probably just anxious.”
you chuckle and shake your head, “he’s something…”
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not too long later, the two of you find your way over at a café nearby and situate yourselves in the balcony area on the second floor.
jihyo holds a mint-colored latte cup in her hand that’s filled with a simple, hot mocha. she takes a sip and a bit of the steamed milk coats the top of her lips, she licks it off subtly. you smile before taking a sip of your own drink, some type of seasonal latte that has hints of apple and cinnamon.
“i missed you.” you say, looking down at the slightly distorted latte art in your cup. jihyo looks at you then smiles, a tint of pink dusting her cheeks as she turns her head to take in the view of the farmers markets nearby.
“me too.” she sighs, “i was… i haven’t been as tired lately, so i waited near my window for some spider to knock on it—she never came.”
you frown. “i wanted to. i’m always one to help people and try to not break the law, but i can’t help it when it’s you.” you respond jokingly.
jihyo smiles at your playfulness, happy to be spending time with one of the people she’s grown close with, as well as the hero she’s been secretly crushing and interacting with.
“can i ask how long you’ve been, you know…”
“couple months.” you reply, “remember how i told you about getting bit by the spider?” you ask, jihyo nods and you begin again, “i got bit a week after i moved here, and then i started sticking to things, accidentally broke my doorknob—oh! i was also watching this scary movie one time and got scared, after that i couldn’t see myself in the mirror.”
“that’s a lot.”
“yes, too much.”
“so… what happened with you and your uncle?” jihyo questions, wondering why she’s been spiderwoman-deficient for the past four days.
“oh yeah,” you respond, “well, he found out that i got hurt—not because i was y’know, doing my little hero thing—but he saw the blood and some of the injuries. he went on this tangent about me staying safe, he’s just been on edge and very protective. he doesn’t want me leaving the house. i’ve been working from home.”
“you couldn’t sneak out?”
“he had detectors, it took me a bit to mess with it. i took some engineering classes in high school and had some mischievous friends, so i ended up cheating the system.” you explain. jihyo nods, raising her brows at how capable you are; you’re quite impressive even if someone were to snatch your spider abilities away. “so, what’s been going on with you detective? fill me in.”
jihyo sighs, shaking her head softly.
“your uncle has been on edge, it’s strange.” she says, “usually these types of cases don’t phase him, but he’s shaken up.”
“maybe it was me trapping him in cobwebs—too much?”
the detective shakes her head again. “no, i don’t think so, but that was stupid on your end. he’s just been terribly paranoid; i’ve never seen him so tense.”
you furrow your brows and take another sip of your beverage before raising your brows as if you had an idea, “maybe it has something to do with the scientist?” you suggest, and you ponder before speaking again, “i remember my uncle having lunch with the scientist a couple months ago, he came back from the lunch all tense and a bit angry—even snapped at me for something. it was strange.”
jihyo’s expression lights up, “you’re on to something… that scientist did ask me to see the chief multiple times… and watanabe is clearly hiding something.”
“you think we should reunite them? maybe find out more of what’s between them?”
“it might be a good idea.” the detective mumbles, swirling remnants of her drink in the cup. you bite the inside of your lip and hum again,
“let’s try it, i can talk to the chief.”
“you’re on house arrest.”
“spiderwoman can do it then. she’s not on house arrest.”
jihyo’s eyes widen at the suggestion, and she looks at you like you’re crazy. “you’re insane.”
“maybe chief l/n will listen to me if i’m sweet with him.”
“he could body slam you to the ground.”
“maybe he could do that to y/n, but not spiderwoman.” you beam.
“no, maybe spiderwoman too.” jihyo shakes her head and simply sighs, “you’re actually the dumbest person i know.”
“you into that?”
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the mask on your face is new, so is the suit (you were able to contact your suit designer via email and after seeing jihyo you got your much more durable suit—that is, after getting scolded by the fashion designer.)
you spot chief l/n in the office alone, it’s quite late anyway, a little past when you’d usually have dinner. your uncle examines a paper with furrowed brows and a pen in his large, aging hands. he looks pretty focused—you take it as your cue to invite yourself into his large office.
when the chief hears a small thud, he’s immediately on guard. he puts his hand over the gun strapped under his desk and scans the room: there’s no one, nothing, but he’s not convinced.
“i’m not fucking stupid.” he says coldly, “show yourself or you’re going to regret a lot.”
his voice is low, deep, and threatening. it’s worse than when he scolds you, much worse and you think you might be lucky that his most angry tone with you is less frightening than how he’s talking to you now.
you’re invisible, he can’t see you at all. the chief pulls out his gun from under the table and holds it with precision, aiming and scanning the room once more for any sign of someone. the gun in his hand is knocked out with a spiderweb and the chief halts, stiffening in his place.
you unveil yourself and the chief spots the familiar vigilante stuck to the ceiling, though that same vigilante who had terrorized him a couple days prior is wearing a new suit.
“hello chief.” you greet, making sure you alter your voice.
the tall, bulky man grimaces when you release yourself off of the wall and land on the floor of the room.
“spiderwoman.”
“nice to see you too.” you say, “i’m not going to hurt you or anything, i’m just uneasy around guns.”
“yeah, sure.” he scoffs, “you’re up to something.”
“god- no!” you groan, losing patience. the chief drops his stern demeanor for a second when you pinch the bridge of your nose, it almost convinces him that you’re just a simple human under that suit. “i’m trying to get more details on the lizard, and i need your help.”
“that lizard… he’s behind bars.”
“but that’s not it and you know it.”
“get out my damn office. i’m not afraid to fight you, i don’t care how many webs you trap me in.”
you sigh again, growing even more impatient. the chief glares at you when you do so.
“look—the people, the citizens, families and friends—they’re all in danger if you’re not competent,” you explain. your uncle drops his serious expression and his shoulders relax just barely.
“and i should just tell you why, huh? so you can do who knows what with this information? i’m not stupid.”
“you’re getting on my fucking nerves though and you’re being a prick that’s what you are.” you respond with irritation, and the tone of your retort reminds the chief of a certain someone he knows very well. “you think i saved that whole venue for shits and giggles? i left there with a broken rib and more bruises and cuts than i can count on one hand. i don’t know how many people i have to save or buildings i have to stop from collapsing to get you to understand that i’m not the fucking villain. look, watanabe is eery, there’s something i’m missing on this whole case because that damn scientist has been reluctant to give answers due to some tall ass man-baby of a chief that not only refuses to see the what, barely average height scientist, but the same chief who won’t fucking comply to this ‘vigilante’ because of his foggy little brain.”
the chief looks at you with surprise now, mouth slightly agape.
“i’m—i’m sorry?” he says with uncertainty. your uncle decides to swallow up his pride and prejudice, you sound like his niece and he starts to soften up. “fine. only if it helps.”
so rambling was the only thing that you needed to get him to comply? you’ve been wasting your time, too much time.
“why does watanabe want to see you.” you ask, observing the way your uncles eyes hesitantly avoid your gaze.
it’s quite strange seeing your uncle so sheepish looking, so submissive and not in the way he looks when your aunt scolds him for not eating, but he looks almost vulnerable.
“we-” he pauses and his shoulders drop just barely, “we used to work together. now that he’s behind bars i can’t compromise my position.”
“how does it compromise your position?”
“i’m a big guy, a big, bulky guy. watanabe and i used to be friends and… he asked for my dna samples and whatnot. look, i might’ve…” the chief sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “i gave him some and i don’t know what he did with it, but now that he’s behind bars i think it’s something bad. i don’t know, i’ve never been a science freak.”
“okay so he has your dna, what are you looking so scared for?” you ask,
“i’m just wary… i don’t know what he can do with it—what he has done with it.”
you ponder for a bit and look at the anxious chief in front of you, who looks less intimidating than ever in front of you. why would watanabe need his dna?
“well, he’s behind bars, so no need to worry about anything for now yeah? i’ll investigate this myself.” you assure. you expect an inquiry, a response or something—but the chief simply nods and huffs.
“yeah alright.” he sighs. you shoot a thumbs up and hide yourself in transparency, that’s when you hear small—but noticeable in the silent ambience—words of gratitude. “thanks for taking a weight off my shoulders.”
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you really have to stop breaking into jihyo’s home—well, it’s more of you jump scaring her and then her letting you in—so is it really a crime if there’s implied consent to enter?
jihyo opens the window for you and sighs, “i have a door you know.”
“too much work.”
“and swinging to the tenth floor of my apartment building is less work?”
“more exciting!” you beam, “and i like your little reaction, it’s cute.”
jihyo rolls her eye at your little remark and you climb in. she watches you pull off your mask and tuck some of your messy hair away, her eyes linger a little before she turns and walks back to her stove.
“whatcha cookin’?” you ask, sitting on the counter of the little kitchen island.
“avocado toast with eggs.” jihyo responds, not turning around.
“how healthy.”
“did you need something?” she asks, sliding the spatula under the eggs before flipping it over and cutting the heat.
“do you wanna break the law?” you ask. jihyo turns around and the expression plastered on her face screams:“are you dumb or stupid?”
“you’re seriously asking me this?”
“okay technically it’s not fully breaking the law,” you start, “just… doing something that might be an invasion of privacy.”
“that might be breaking the law, stupid.” jihyo snickers, smiling at the idiot in front of her.
you’re wearing something comfy yet professional looking: a pullover with a dress shirt under and some simple dress pants. the detective wonders if people saw you swinging around like that—the only thing masking your identity being the mask you had taken off, and without the mask jihyo can see you with the nerdy-looking glasses you put on earlier, and the smile plastered on your face. you’ve got a cute grin.
“you never said no.” you shrug.
“i’ll lose my job.”
“no you wont. just let me explain?” you plead. jihyo sighs, crossing her arms while leaning against the counter next to the stove; all of the detectives’ attention is on you now.
“thanks lovely.” you say, and the little remark makes jihyo’s cheeks flush just barely. “okay so i had a little talk with the chief last night, turns out watanabe has his dna and my uncle’s on edge because of that.”
“okay…”
“i work for the same company, meaning i have a keycard. that also means we can investigate a little more and find out what the hell he wanted to do with the chiefs dna.” you explain, “it’s technically your job to do all this investigating and if you think about it: i’m just a loyal citizen helping out the hottest detective in the force.”
jihyo uncrosses her arms and puts her hands on the counter gripping the edge. you watch the way her arm tenses and wow she’s toned. the detective looks down and shakes her head, smiling.
the shorter woman turns back around and pulls out a piece of bread from the toaster, then uses the spatula that rested on the plate to put an egg on the toast. she hands you the plate and you turn your head, but take it nonetheless.
“eat up, gotta have energy to ‘kinda’ break the law.”
your eyes light up and you almost gasp, “you’re going to do it?”
“you get me to do the craziest things.”
you smirk and respond, “and if i were a crazy thing?”
jihyo looks you in the eye and smiles. “i could put you on my to-do list then.”
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you had offered to swing out her window with her, but jihyo denied, and you teased her the whole way down to the parking lot.
now you’re playing passenger princess (pt. 2) and watch jihyo shift out her parking space, which is a sight. there’s something enticing with her movements, the way she carries herself, and her confidence.
when you reach the building—the large, modern-looking building with a café that keeps your coffee addiction thriving—jihyo gazes for a bit, clearly impressed.
“never been here?”
“no, i have, just never had time to fully take in everything.” she says, “it’s very nice.”
you smile and open the door for her, she rolls her eyes and walks in—you follow behind.
there are a few familiar faces in the building, some people rushing around and others conversing—it could be mistaken as a lobby at some college, jihyo looks around and is taken aback by the lively atmosphere.
“there you are, where have you been?” a recognizable voice scoffs. you turn to your left and see nayeon, smiling cheekily as she walks towards you and jihyo. you roll your eyes playfully and scoff playfully,
“been avoiding you.” you respond jokingly, and nayeon just laughs.
“who’s this? your girlfriend? been skipping work to be with her or what?” nayeon asks. her inquiry takes both you and jihyo by surprise, making both of you blush.
words stick to the tip of your tongue for a moment and jihyo puts out her hand for nayeon while you compose yourself. “detective park.” she introduces.
nayeon raises her brows and shakes her hand, then looks at you with a quirked brow and the look in her eyes seem to convey an “ooh~” before she responds to jihyo. “im nayeon.”
you clear your throat after they shake hands, “it’s nice to see you again i guess.” you say to nayeon, “but i have to go up and grab something, i’ll see you.”
“yeah yeah, see you. i was on my way out anyway—don’t blow up anything.” she sighs, and you scoff playfully. the two of you smile at each other mischievously before nayeon heads out the doors.
jihyo laughs and you raise a brow, watching her as she shakes her head.
“got all flustered from her asking if i was your girlfriend? what happened to the confidence from before?”
“shut up.” you respond, “let’s just go.”
jihyo laughs as you walk towards the elevators—she can’t see you, but she knows you’re blushing like an idiot.
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the two of you reach the 7th floor and jihyo follows you out the elevator.
as you and jihyo make your way down the dimly lit corridor, a sense of anticipation fills the air. the tension is palpable as you approach the lab room. fumbling in your pocket, you retrieve a keycard, silently emphasizing the need for caution as you unlock the door. "stay by my side and stay quiet. we're not supposed to be here," you mumble, voice low and careful.
entering the room, you both are immediately struck by its sheer size. you’ve been here once with another scientist from the company, though only for a brief moment to retrieve information for your article. it's not just a regular room; it's an enormous space dedicated to housing the scientists' most precious possessions—their files, research, and invaluable data.
as your gaze scans the shelves, your heart skips a beat before settling on the section that holds the coveted information you seek. the lights are dim, making it difficult to distinguish one folder from another, but thankfully you’re spiderwoman; your senses are already much more advanced than any person.
with each folder you come across, you murmur the words written on their labels. jihyo watches you intently, captivated by your unwavering focus. there's a certain charm in the way you immerse yourself in the task at hand, it's adorable and there's an undeniable allure to your commitment that draws her in.
“they’re all in alphabetical order… t… u… v… hmmm—ah! w!” you beam. you snatch the folder that reads “watanabe.” a contagious smile dances across your lips, your elation mirrored by jihyo.
“is that what we need?” jihyo asks, turning her head.
“yeah, this is one of the more important files, it has a lot of his research and experiments. i’m also going to look for-“
before you can finish your sentence, an unwelcome intrusion slices through the air, mingling with the palpable fear creeping into your senses when you hear the low tap of footsteps outside the room.
 the threat of being caught floods your mind, driving you into spontaneous action. quickly, you take jihyo’s wrist, urgency pulsating through your grip, and scan the room frantically. from the corner of your eye, a small closet appears. you bolt toward it and drag jihyo with you, then close yourselves inside.
you’re in your head trying to listen to the sound coming from the corridor that you don’t realize the compromising position you’re in.
silent seconds stretch while you two stay cautious and awareness dawns upon you, and your breath halts. one hand is unintendedly situated on the curve of jihyo’s slender waist and the other still grips her wrist. her back is pressed against the closet door, and your senses collide with her proximity, faces and bodies inches apart.
(with how quiet it is in the room, you wonder if whoever was lurking would catch you just from the pounding of your heart.)
you loosen your grip on her wrist and whisper, “sorry.”
“you’ve got a good grip.” jihyo mumbles, “and it’s okay.”
the air hangs heavy, thick with tension. you glance downwards and you’re captivated by the intensity in jihyo's eyes—intimidating and enticing even in the darkened room—and an irrepressible impulse surges within you.
jihyo lets out a shallow breath and peeks at your lips, you take a quick glance at hers before you two gape into each other’s eyes again.
now it’s jihyo’s turn to hold your wrist, and without conscious thought, your heart pounding an adrenaline-fueled rhythm, you lean forward, closing the remaining distance until your lips press against hers.
it’s soft and tender at first, then warm and thrilling. you pull away for a brief moment to utter and apology, which is muffled after jihyo crashes her lips back to you with a doubled intensity. you hum in response and she pulls you closer, making you lean down to match her height.
in the muffled silence of the closet, time becomes a mere afterthought, eclipsed by the pulsating intensity that engulfs you both. the world outside fades into oblivion as your lips meet again and again after parting to tilt your heads in the other direction after a few kisses, and after a couple more you’re changing kissing angles again.
jihyo’s hands trace over your chest, then to your shoulders and at last: your neck. she grips at your hair, tugs and pulls while simultaneously leading the kiss—she’s naturally one to take control. she swipes her tongue against your lip and you let her tongue explore your mouth, earning various hums and small groans.
you pull away to catch your breath and jihyo stops you before you can kiss her again, placing her hand on your chest and adding pressure to it to restrain your eagerness.
“sorry,” you say, cheeks flushed and breath heavy. “too much?”
jihyo laughs softly and shakes her head before responding, “not at all, y/n. it’s just, we should be careful… don’t want you to be too loud—yet. let’s continue later.” your cheeks flush from her remark and jihyo laughs lowly after hearing your breath quiver. “do you think whoever was walking is gone?”
“i- um, i’ll have to listen closer.” you mutter.
jihyo’s hand still rests on your chest, right above your heart—which is beating at an unhealthy pace—and jihyo doesn’t comment on the noticeable pounding against her palm. you pause for a moment and really concentrate your sense of hearing, listening on anything going on outside. jihyo lets you work your magic and smiles when you hum.
“no one outside, it’s clear. i’ll turn invisible and you know, check it out. i’ll let you know if you can come out; when i knock three times then that’s your cue to leave the closet, yeah?” you explain.
jihyo nods and says, “sounds good spiderwoman.” which earns a small chuckle from you. some light seeps in when you open the door, letting jihyo have a glimpse of your face: cheeks tinted pink, your ears are a darker shade, and the smirk on your face is smug.
you plant a kiss on her incredibly soft lips before disappearing from her sight, and jihyo hears a small “cute,” before the door closes. she’s left in the dark closet alone with a warm feeling in her chest—though it’s soon replaced with the realization:
oh my god… i just made out with my boss’s niece.
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when you and jihyo reach the floor of the lobby, you two act like you haven’t just violated the privacy of a (now criminal) scientist.
there are two folders, a binder, and some samples from who knows what that were hastily placed inside your bag when you first got into the elevator. the two of you head towards jihyo's car, acting as if nothing has happened, despite having committed something slightly very illegal.
the detective closes her doors and you mirror her action once you sit down, and as you both put on your seatbelts jihyo scoffs, “i can’t believe you got me to do this.”
“it’s for my uncle, and you know, just in case.” you assure, looking at her as she grips the steering wheel a little tight. “in the end i think he’ll be grateful, and it’ll help with the case.”
“i know.” jihyo says, “he can be scary.”
“i’ll take care of him, okay?”
“okay.” she responds before shooting you a small smile, which makes you smile back in return.
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when you reach jihyo’s apartment, you take off your jacket and hang it on the hooks on the wall. jihyo does the same with her own jacket and you meet at her kitchen island.
you take out the stolen goods from your back and drop them on the marble counter, jihyo turns on the lamp above to make it easier to read and see. jihyo stands across from you as you take out each file and skim through them, watching your eyebrows crinkle from concentration.
four pieces of paper are taken out of one of the binders—three of them being stapled together—and you quickly read through them. then, you place them on the counter, and your eyes scan the title of a sample before laying it next to the papers.
“this is it.” you sigh, looking down at the messy tapestry of notes and diagrams.
jihyo tilts her head and questions, “what?”
“my uncle’s dna. there’s notes on it and everything, it’s all scribbled here—look.” you respond, flipping the paper over and pushing it towards the detective. jihyo’s eyebrows reflect yours and furrow as she reads the text. her shoulders relax and she turns the paper over to read more, eye’s widening a little as she reads.
you pick up the sample and examine it a bit more as jihyo reads through. she looks back at you and says in disbelief, “watanabe tried to make human lizards?”
“pretty much.” you reply, “my uncle’s a big, bulky guy… watanabe probably tried to fuck with the lizard dna and his genes to make something relatively close—but thankfully, it didn’t work. here, this paper shows the trials and whatnot.” you add, handing jihyo the non-stapled paper.
jihyo sets the small packet down and reads through the one handed to her, examining the various angrily crossed-out sentences, numbers, and notes. she hums at the sight.
“so there’s nothing to worry about?” the detective asks. you nod and respond,
“no, thankfully. i’ll probably show up as spiderwoman and leave a little note to the chief, i should probably get to that soon—tonight.” you admit, leaning against the counter. “i’ll leave you alone for now, sorry for making you do all of this.”
you don’t want to leave, that’s the last thing you want to do. the small silence after you utter your last sentence urges you to pack up and leave, even if the thought of continuing whatever happened in your closet flooded your mind.
“wait,” jihyo says as you start to trudge away towards the window, and you pause in your place as soon as you take a step on the carpet on the floor.
you raise a brow in confusion (hoping jihyo read your mind). “yes?”
“just stay, the sun is already setting.” she says boldly.
 “my uncle would kill me, i’m on house arrest.” you sigh, “getting these to him as spiderwoman would get me off house arrest.”
jihyo frowns and you mirror her expression. “you really can’t stay?” she asks, brows creasing just barely.
“i would if i could.”
“well,” jihyo starts, walking over to you. “before you jump out the window,” she mumbles, now one step away from you. she places her hand on your chest and looks at you with a warm softness in her eyes. she tilts her head, then leans up to press her lips against yours, less aggressive than in the closet, but just as nerve-racking—making your heart beat quicken just from the simple contact.
you practically melt when she kisses you, and your hands instinctively reach for her cheek, cupping it gently. time seems to hesitate when she puts her arms around your neck, and you make sure to savor the taste and feel of her lips on yours.
jihyo pulls away first, but only a little so your lips still brush against each other.
“jihyo…” you mutter, and you can feel her smiling against you—her grin spreads to your own lips.
“if you’re off house arrest tomorrow… we should—”
“yes, please.” you say, “anything you want.”
“didn’t know a kiss was enough to have you so eager.” jihyo snickers gently.
you smirk and press a quick peck. “oh i can be eager—if that’s what you want?”
jihyo rolls her eyes at your stupid (yet tempting) response and pulls away so she can see your face clearly. she gazes at you for a bit, simple appreciating your presence and the faint dimple that appears on your cheek as you smile at her. jihyo fixes your hair, pushing away strands that fall over your face.
“you’re an idiot.”
“you love that though.”
“a lot.” jihyo responds, then presses a kiss to your cheek and smiles. “now go get yourself off house arrest.”
you grin. “yes detective.”
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the chief stands at his desk and puts on his coat, then gathers all the papers he had already gone through in his bag. on his desk, a folder suddenly drops down with a smack and the chief jumps, letting out a small yelp.
“hi chief.” a voice says. the chief looks up and he watches the familiar vigilante become translucent, then fully visible after unveiling herself. spiderwoman releases herself from the ceiling and lands on the ground with ease. “gotcha’ some things you’d probably love to look through.”
“what the hell spidergirl—”
“please, i know i’m supposed to mask my identity, but spiderwoman is better. c’mon man, i’m in my twenties.” you groan. the chief looks at you and shakes his head, then picks up the folder that had scared him half to death earlier.
your uncle furrows his brows slightly as he reads the papers (same as jihyo did, you note. at this point everything is reminding you of her—even the bulky man in front of you).
“where— where did you get this? how—”
“told you i’d check it out. nothing to worry about chief, just wanted to ease your worries.” you shrug, “i told you i’m not the bad guy.”
the chief examines you for a moment, looking you up and down before his shoulders drop. he puts the papers back in the folder and stares at it for a couple seconds, exhaling in relief.
“thank you.” he says, “i was… really on edge.”
“anytime.” you say, smiling from under the mask. the chief walks up to you, looking down and narrowing his eyes before softening his gaze. he puts his hand out and you look at it in surprise—as well as confusion.
“let’s keep contact, spiderwoman.” the chief says, “maybe you’re not so bad.” he adds. you hesitate for a moment and stare at his hand for a moment longer before shaking it. the chief doesn’t break your hand, doesn’t pull you in and throw you to the ground—he shakes it professionally and nods. “you’ve earned my trust.”
you want to lift your mask up and show him your proud smile, and a part of you wants to reveal yourself.
“i’m glad. i’m just your friendly neighborhood spiderwoman after all, harmless!” you beam.
“that’s debatable. i saw what you did to that monster.” he responds. you catch the faint twitch of his lips: an almost smile.
“how else could i save everyone?”
“i guess you’re right, get going kid, sun is setting.”
“i told you i’m in my twenties!”
“you really remind me of someone i know spiderwoman.” he says with a breath of amusement, “have a good night, thank you again.” he finally adds before grabbing his bag. the chief walks past spiderwoman without body-slamming her or anything like that; the tall, hefty man simply walks out and leaves spiderwoman speechless.
that’s all it took to get on his good side?
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jihyo walks into the building and the routine is the same as always: she greets the front desk lady—rachel was her name, she’s sweet and always has a smile on for anyone talking to her. after her usual friendly greeting, jihyo walks over to her desk and greets the rest of the team.
as jihyo sets her bag down, a familiar face appears and greets the detective.
“hello park, morning.” francis beams, smiling softly at jihyo. francis was one of the newer cops, he was pretty young for one—but great at his job. jihyo was quite fond of him, he was nice and competent.
“morning, how are you?”
“good, good.” he says before yawning, “glad it’s friday.”
“me too.” jihyo responds with a laugh, taking out a few reports from her bag and turning on the computer in front of her.
the detective turns back to the monitor in front of her and gets to typing, looking down at the paper and back up to the screen as she types various letters, numbers, and who knows what at this point.
her mind is completely foggy, she tries to get some work done, tries to copy down the reports and examine them. the only thing she can really focus on is the memory of your lips on hers, and whether you’re off house arrest because she really needs a continuation of what happened in that damn closet.
jihyo flinches at the sudden sound of the voice she’s been missing most and looks down at her desk to see a 16oz paper coffee cup on her desk.
“morning detective.”
“jesus!” jihyo yelps, “don’t do that!”
“i thought you’d get used to it by now.” you snicker. jihyo smiles as you pull a chair up next to her and sit down, sipping on your own beverage. “i’m off house arrest.”
“i can see that.” jihyo sighs, though the tone of her voice doesn’t match the way her heart warms upon your arrival. “shouldn’t you be at work?”
“technically it’s an internship,” you respond, “but i guess it’s my job now, seeing they pay me more than some of the actual employees.”
“well whatever it is you should probably be at the building, no?”
“i have work in less than forty minutes. do you hate my presence that much?” you question, a pout forming. “didn’t hate it that much yesterday—"
the detective punches your shoulder and you wince playfully before jihyo rolls her eyes and takes a sip of the coffee you brought her. “you’re loud, too loud for someone who’s my boss’s blood relative.” she scolds you lowly and sets down the beverage before redirecting her attention back to the screen. “and no, i don’t hate your presence, just don’t want you slacking or getting scolded.” she admits, a smile threatening to form on her lips.
you laugh and gaze at her for a moment, taking in the slope of her nose and catching a glimpse of the small mole on the tip of it. your eyes trace the sharp curve of her jaw, and then your look sets on her lips—the taste and feel lingers in your mind. jihyo pretends to ignore your blatant stare.
“i’ll stop bothering you for a bit, should probably get going anyway and let my favorite detective get to work.” you mumble. jihyo turns as you begin to stand up and furrows her brows. she looks to around quickly and grabs your wrist, making you turn and hum in confusion.
“wait,” she starts, trying to keep you close to her for just a while more, “i just printed something, you should come with me before you go.” you smile at her suggestion and set your coffee down on her desk, then nod.
the walk to the printing room is quite silent, nothing is said or heard other than the click of jihyo’s boots reverberating. when you get to the small room, a man walks out and smiles at jihyo before holding the door for the two of you. the detective smiles back before going in, with you trailing behind.
jihyo goes to the screen of the printer and taps at a few buttons, then sighs, “out of paper, come with me to get some.”
“yes ma’am.”
the paper and supplies room are two rooms down from the printing area, and so the two of you walk down the hall then into the room.
jihyo opens the door and you enter first—what catches you completely off guard is the way your senses are quickly overwhelmed.
without warning, your back is pushed against the closed door and you’re immobilized by jihyo’s body pressing against you. before you can comprehend what’s happening, her warm, soft lips press against yours with a slight aggression and it makes you groan immediately.
your hands find their way to her waist, the other on her upper rib to push her closer into you—craving the warmth and feeling it gives you.
something about making out in a dimmed, small room feels right to the two of you; you’ve made out twice so far and both times have been in relatively similar spaces. this won’t be the last time you make out in a small space.
jihyo pulls away and your brain is hazy, you immediately move yourself closer to capture her lips again.
“fuck,” you sigh in between kisses, “what’s with the sudden—” you get cut off with another harsh kiss, making you groan louder into her mouth. jihyo’s tongue finds its way into your mouth and your hands find their way to her skin, and it makes her shiver from the contact.
every nerve in jihyo’s body wakes as soon as your lips come into contact with her neck, and she stifles a groan when you start to nip at it.
“no marks, not now.” she says dissapointingly.
“later?”
“maybe.” she says, and immediately, a sharp breath leaves her lips when you add a bit of pressure on her waist, squeezing it gently.
a sudden shift in the atmosphere tingles your senses, making your lips detach and actions halt. you shiver at the feeling, instantly pulling away from jihyo and trying to compose yourself.
“someone’s coming, act busy.” you mutter quickly before turning on the light and pretending to busy yourself by reaching for papers on the shelf.
the door opens and you almost flinch at the familiar voice that greets the two of you.
“y/n? jihyo? what are you two doing here?” the chief asks. both you and jihyo stiffen at the sound of who had almost walked in on you. jihyo clears her throat abruptly.
“ah, l/n. i was printing something out and y/n decided to help me out.”
the chief chuckles, “y/n, when do you have to clock in?”
“thirty minutes, figured i’d waste a bit of time with park.” you shrug, “i always make it on time.”
the chief laughs and jihyo tenses her jaw slightly as she smiles at him, fixing her hair and jacket she has on. “well,” the chief starts, “grab me some sticky notes while you’re over there, i’ll let you two converse.” he adds. you nod and grab a stack of pink sticky notes—his favorite color—and toss them at him.
“there you go old man.” you tease.
“watch it,” he says playfully, “and are you sick? your cheeks are so pink.”
again, you and jihyo tense up—you clear your throat before responding, “there’s dust here, i sneezed and rubbed my face too hard.” you lie, almost stumbling over your words when you glance at jihyo.
the chief nods and sighs, “well, don’t get my detective sick.” and with that he exits the room, shutting the door harshly (he’s oblivious to his strength at times), which lets you and jihyo sigh out in relief.
“we need to get a room.” you groan,
“yeah.” jihyo laughs, “are you free tonight?” she asks, and it makes you look at her in surprise, cheeks warming up once again.
“only if you are—and if no one tries to rob a bank.”
jihyo laughs and responds, “i am, and i might just have a room.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.” jihyo says, smirking. “if it means anything, my window will be unlocked if someone wants to swing by.”
“hmmm, i’ll keep that in mind.”
jihyo’s jaw tenses and she looks at you in a way that fills your nerves with temptation. “good. now let’s print these out, i need to hand them to the forensics.”
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jihyo hums along to a tune playing from her phone as she wipes down the counter next to the stove—it’s a slow melody, something fitting for the dimmed room and quiet night.
she hasn’t seen you in a few hours—though it seems like decades—so she’s cleaning up and wandering around to pass the time.
when she finishes cleaning her countertops she walks over to the sink to wash her hands, still humming along to the melody that fills the room with a soft ambiance. jihyo turns off the sink and the unexpected feeling of two large hands on her waist makes her shriek and turn around quickly.
she calms down when she’s met with your grin, but her irritation quickly replaces the relief and she punches your rib lightly; you wince at the feeling dramatically, clutching your side and pouting.
“hey! what was that for?” you groan, and it makes detective park smile.
jihyo crosses her arms and leans against the counter. “you’re going to kill me one day y/n.”
“aw, am i making your heart beat that fast?”
she punches your shoulder again and says, “oh shut up.” you grin at her cheekily.
jihyo takes a moment to examine you and somehow you’re cuter everytime she sees you. you’re wearing some comfy looking navy sweatshirt paired with black sweatpants, how adorable.
the mood in the air shifts when you run your eyes up and down jihyo, and she seems to have gained some of her own powers from the way she reads your mind. you lick your lips swiftly and smirk—it’s not a big one, but the slight curve of one side of your lips is noticeable.
“i told my uncle i’d be staying with a friend for the night,” you explain, and the tempting look in your eyes is replaced by curiosity with a hint of wonder. “i brought some drinks, got a sweet tooth?”
“i can’t pass down drinks from you.”
“you like strawberry soda?” you ask—jihyo hums. “good. i um— thought… maybe we could watch a movie—or just talk? i don’t know honestly, i’ve just been wanting to see you.” you admit, “i realized we haven’t really had time to you know, go on a date and just hang out without any of it being work or crime related… i wanted to be with you.”
jihyo laughs and she feels her heart thud against her chest. “you’re cute.”
“thanks, but you’re cuter,” you reply, which makes jihyo blush and she tries to hide it by walking over to her living room area. you follow behind and she sits down on her couch, patting down a space for you.
“didn’t know spiderwoman was so romantic.”
“hey hey… spiderwoman is a lot of things.” you huff.
you and detective park—no, just jihyo, sweet, genuine, and crazily pretty jihyo—talk for an hour. it starts off with you explaining that you earned the chiefs trust, then it goes on to complaining about said chief, nothing too new though laughs are shared. jihyo complains about her job and the paperwork that’s been piling on her desk and you complain about your side hustle; jihyo is attentive, listening to you ramble about your spiderwoman story of the recent (and very pretentious) group of high school boys who tried to rob a gas station.
talking with jihyo feels easy, it’s not like you have to force yourself or exaggerate anything; conversing with jihyo feels right.
the whole hour of you two simply sharing sodas and drinks leads to scooting closer, shoulders touching and heads leaned back against the top of the touch.
when silence floods for a bit after you share another anecdote, jihyo takes this time to blatantly admire your face—keeping her look on your lips for a couple seconds longer than the other features.
it’s you who closes the distance this time, no words need to be exchanged when you finally do what the both of you have wanted to do: simply lock lips.
“fuck i missed this,”
jihyo smiles when she pulls away. “it’s been a couple hours, y/n.”
“one minute is already too long.” you mumble before kissing her again.
this time your kiss is slow and soft, not the same crashing of hungry lips against each other, it’s soft, sweet, and you two take your time since there’s no risk of being caught. no rush at all.
in contrast to your previous (rushed, aggressive, and heated) kisses, you both take your time to really appreciate each other’s intimacy.
the new comfort and absent feeling of cautiousness lets you savor the feeling of jihyo’s lips on yours: warm, soothing, and everything you didn’t know you needed. you taste the faint hint of strawberry off her while she cups your face, sliding her fingers to the back of your neck and rubbing her thumb against your skin.
a few minutes (you guess it’s been a few minutes, cant be that long, no? it’s been thirty minutes) pass and the two of you have your hands roaming around, the kisses get needier by the second.
hunger hurriedly takes over and you’re practically eating other’s mouths in no time. despite the change in pace and intimacy, you’re perfectly fine with it; if anything, it’s perfect how it escalated from a simple sweet kiss to whatever is making your cunt throb.
you blindly shift yourselves and jihyo backs up to lay down comfortably on the cushions of the couch. one thing you that made your breath uneasy was the way jihyo tangled her fingers in your hair, especially the way she tugged at it occasionally. her hand rested on your neck at first, then she moved it down to your waist and slid her nimble fingers under your sweatshirt, making contact with your skin. you whimpered unintentionally at the sudden contact, which was not only amusing—but also incredibly alluring to jihyo.
“you’ve been waiting for this haven’t you?” she mumbles, pushing a strand of your hair out of your face. “i think it’s cute how you’re on top of me, but you seem much more shaken up.”
you try to respond to jihyo, but a lump forms in your throat when she pulls back a little more and looks at you like you’re the cutest thing in the world. jihyo slides her hands further up near the middle of your ribs, making your breath hitch.
“didn’t know you’d be this easy to rile up spiderwoman.”
before you can try to respond, she closes the gap you groan into her mouth. with a swift press of her fingers against your skin, you part your lips for her to explore your mouth, then push yourself closer to her. her touch sends a shiver down your spine and the way her tongue takes over in your mouth drives you fucking crazy.
she makes her way down to your neck with soft kisses serving as a trail, then nips at your skin softly, eliciting a soft, breathy “fuck” from you.
jihyo pulls away and you whine. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and looks into your eyes before mumbling, “you’re cute.”
you smile and your lips meet again, you pull away to murmur against her lips softly, “bedroom?” and jihyo hums in agreement.
the two of you get up from the couch, but your lips are almost unable to part from one another for more than five seconds. you bump into the walls clumsily, which makes you two laugh even as you groan into each other’s mouths—it’s all so heartwarming and cute—and soon you manage to make it to jihyo’s room.
now it’s jihyo’s turn to press you against the door again. you curse lowly as she marks up your neck again and try to feel for the light switch against the wall; you manage to light up the room despite your eyes closing from the overwhelming feeling of jihyo’s skilled lips.
she pulls away for a second and asks, “are you sure you want to-“
“fuck yes, please.” you answer immediately, then cut her off with a hungry kiss that leaves her stumbling back. you kiss her needily and fumble with the edge of her shirt before slipping it off, and when you pull away to gaze at her body you let out a breath of amazement.
jihyo laughs. “you kept teasing me about how i could undress you, but look who’s so eager to have me naked.” she asks, catching you staring at her in awe. you part your lips at the sight of her tremendously toned core and she snickers. “you like what you see?”
“love what i see,” you sigh, “shit, you’re beautiful.”
“let me help you out, i wanna see what’s under there again.”
with a swift movement, she slips off your sweatshirt and you’re both standing close to each other topless.
you were confident enough with your words and jihyo seeing your skin when you had that mask on, but now that it’s just you; you feel a little shy now that you’re a bit revealed in front of jihyo—despite still having a bra on—and you avoid eye contact.
her eyes soften. “you’re so pretty.” she sighs, then kisses you swiftly and sweetly.
the detective is a natural leader, and it’s showing now. she guides you to the bed while exploring the curves and grooves of your body, then she’s straddling you on her queen sized bed.
you pull away and jihyo looks at your dilated pupils—completely taking over your eyes.
“can i— can i take your bra off?”
“of course.” jihyo responds.
your fingers work to unclasp jihyo’s bra and holy shit you’re stunned. your eyes widen and you exhale in amazement.
as embarrassing as it is to admit, you’ve fantasized at the ungodly hours of the night and also during those boring moments at work about seeing jihyo like this. you thought you’d be fine in a situation like this seeing you’ve daydreamed about it—but fuck it’s better than anything you can imagine now that it’s really happening. you pause in your place, halting any action.
“cat got your tongue?”
“i— fuck you’re so pretty jihyo.” you sigh, “can i touch you?”
“of course,” and right after her approval your hand slides up from her waist to her chest.
the way she gasps as you brush your fingers over her nipple is music to your ears, and it does not help the way your cunt throbs. something about the way she groans roughly when you pinch her bud slightly makes you groan in response, muttering a small “holy shit” in response.
you press a chaste kiss on her breast and trail down with your tongue to swirl around the peak of her breast, taking note of what kind of action makes her breath shake the most. the only thing you want to do right now is make her feel good, make her feel the same as you.
“your tits are so fucking nice,” you say, and jihyo lets out a sound that’s a mix of a laugh and a moan.
a couple minutes pass of you shamelessly indulging in jihyo’s tits (something that you could get used to—something that you need to do often) and your lips find their way back to each other. then, jihyo pulls away and she look at you with lidded eyes.
“can i—”
“please,” you interject, “please.”
“whatever you’d like,” jihyo says amusingly, “let me take care of you. i’m gonna make you feel good, okay?”
you nod eagerly and she unclasps your own bra, biting her lip at the new territory revealed. she mutters a compliment and you simply whimper at her words. needless to say, your reactions have jihyo surprised and invested.
she works at your tits for a while, leaving a couple marks in between, under, and on them. you grip at her bedsheets and arch your back at the way she swirls her tongue skillfully around your sensitive areas, you’re practically drowning in bliss and she hasn’t even touched you where you need it most yet.
her lips leave a trail of pecks on your body as she lowers down, and when she reaches your soft tummy her hands tug your pants down.
“hyo, p—please…” you groan, “please touch me.”
jihyo hums and she presses a finger against your underwear, it makes your hips twitch.
she kisses your inner thighs and leaves you breathless, your eyes shut as you press against the mattress. she pulls away and slides your underwear off, tossing it aside carelessly and biting her lip when she meets your core.
a soft peck is pressed on your clit and you let out a stifled moan. gently, she slides her fingers along your walls. she smiles at how aroused you are, feeling the slick that dampens her fingers.
“god, you’re so wet y/n.”
“shut—shut up.”
“excited aren’t you?” she teases, “i like this side of you more than spiderwoman to be honest.”
before you can respond, she latches her mouth onto your pussy and the surge of pleasure makes you groan so loud that it even takes you by surprise. you bite your lip the more she lashes at your dripping center, sucking, slicking, and savoring the sweet slick that seeps out.
your hand immediately reaches for her hair the more she indulges in your pussy, and she groans against you.
you’re not sure how long it’s been since she went down on you, but you’re feeling that knot forming in your stomach the more she tongue fucks you and the more you whine. you’re completely lost in pleasure; a few points of contact from her nose to your clit and tongue to your walls and you’re sent over the edge.
a hoarse, strangled sound between a cry and a moan is heard from you, jihyo continues to savor your sweetness. you push your head back into the mattress and jihyo trails back up to you with kisses.
“holy shit,” you say breathless, jihyo grins while you recover.
“how was it?”
“i— think you know the answer.” you sigh as you prop yourself on your elbows. “i’ve um, i’ve thought about you like this before and— this is better than anything i’ve ever imagined.”
jihyo chuckles and you cup her cheek, then kiss her fervently. she hums into the kiss and you pull away, stroking her cheek with your thumb.
seeing as you’re spiderwoman, you’re naturally quick to recover. your hand moves back to her breast and you brush your finger over her nipple, earning a sharp breath from her.
“my turn to make you feel good.”
with a swift motion, you flip jihyo over and pin her down on the bed. she gasps at the sudden change, and before she has time to process much—you’re already occupied with her boobs.
blindly, you slider her pants and panties off with a quick motion and slide your hands up and down her legs. jihyo’s moans are on the louder side, and they’re strangled too.
you’re so eager to hear her come undone, so eager to leave her a mess. with thumb her clit once, then twice, and then stick your fingers inside—which has jihyo’s nails grasping at your shoulder and her breath shaking.
the more you pump in and out, the closer she is to breaking. you savor each and every moan that reverberates against the walls in her room, making sure the target the spots that make her curse louder than ever. her hands uncontrollably grip at your tricep, then your shoulder, and soon she’s gripping your hair, which has you groaning against her chest shamelessly while you mark it up.
“y-y/n, oh— i’m close, i-i’m— keep going,"
with the overwhelming sensation of your tongue swirling around her nipple and the way your thumb presses against her clit—she’s breathing heavily, shaking, and soon enough she’s trembling after a loud yelp. she mutters a string of curses and does what you had done before, sinking into the mattress and once you pull away from her chest to gaze at her; she pulls you in for a messy, sensual kiss.
the two of you stay like that for a while, kissing tiredly and sloppily before you fall over beside her on the bed.
“god, y/n…”
“did you like it?” you ask. the smug smirk on your lips makes jihyo sigh amusingly and she shakes her head playfully.
“of course i did.”
“we should…” you begin, “do this more often—if you’re fine with that.”
jihyo laughs and you lay your head on her chest.
“i’m more than fine with it, spiderwoman.”
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when jihyo wakes up, she feels an extra warmth on the left side of her body.
she looks down and looks at the face squished in her chest which makes her smile immediately. you’re breathing gently and one arm is draped across her body, loosely resting above her waist.
“like my boobs that much?” she chuckles softly, tracing her finger along your soft skin. you grumble into her and sigh, waking up to the low sound of her voice.
you blink three times—though the first two times were slow and lazy—then shift closer into her. your hand presses her against you more, and you tangle your leg with hers before mumbling, “morning.”
she laughs at the lower tone of your morning voice and kisses your forehead. “good morning y/n.”
after rubbing your face against her shoulder, you push yourself up and prop yourself up on one elbow. jihyo laughs at your squinted, tired eyes before you tickle her with kisses on her jaw and neck.
“jihyo,” you begin—she hums in response. “do you think we rushed this?” you ask, referring to whatever relationship you two have now as you slide your along the skin over her ribs.
“hm, i don’t think so. you’ve already been saying a lot of suggestive things prior to this.”
“you liked it though.”
“maybe.” jihyo says, rolling her eyes. you drop back down onto the bed and return to nuzzling your face into the crook of her neck, kissing it once before closing your eyes again. “y/n,” jihyo says again, this time with a tone that makes you open your eyes again.
“yes?”
“what would your uncle say if… if he knew his detective slept with his niece?”
now your eyes widen and your body tenses. “shit.” you groan. jihyo laughs and you sit up quickly. “how bad did you mark me?”
“let’s hope there’s a store nearby that has concealer in your shade y/n.”
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sluttywoozi · 1 year
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Not A Baby | lsm x reader
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Rating: M (18+ MDNI) | WC: ~1.2k
Warnings: i wrote this in an hour long fever dream, restraining (seok holds readers wrists down to the bed, forgot to tag before my bad!), edging (not shown), dumbification, dacryphilia, kinda mean dom seokmin, possessive seokmin, unprotected sex, creampie, 3 words of breeding/impreg, no aftercare sowwy
Reader Notes: older than seokmin (not specified), has a vagina
“Want me to make you cum, baby? Think you’ve earned it yet?” Seokmin asks you, a sly smile stretching his lips as he takes in the way you writhe, the way you keen, the way you cry beneath him. 
He’s been edging you for an hour now, pushing you close to breaking seven times, the first three on his tongue and the next four on his fingers (not that he’s counting). He wants to let you cum, he does, but you teased him just a bit too much, pushed him just a bit too far. He’s never had a problem with you being older than him, but when you called him your ‘sweet baby Seokmin’, he decided enough was enough. 
So, here you are. Here being a whimpering, sopping wet mess on his bed, your hands stretched out above your head and held tightly in one of his and your thighs spread wide open. He’s got your cunt spread open too, four fingers filling you up and his thumb circling your clit just to torture you, just to make you whine. 
He wants to fuck you, desperately, but he’s not sure you get it yet and he won’t give you his cock until he’s certain you do. There’s still an hour or two before you need to go to bed so you can get a good night’s sleep for work, and he’s willing to spend those hours making sure it’s not something you’ll forget. 
“What am I, honey?” Seokmin asks, his expectant tone indicating you should know the answer, and he can see you trying to find two brain cells to rub together amidst the haze of incomplete ecstasy, almost feels bad for you, almost feels bad that it just makes him want to fuck you even more. Makes him want to make you cum until you don’t even have two brain cells, until you can’t speak, can't breathe, can't move, until you know nothing but his name. You seem to figure it out just as he starts curling his fingers in you again, ready to bring you up to the edge and then yank you back, replying, “Not a baby, you’re not a baby, Seokmin.”
“That’s right, honey, good job,” he responds, knowing full well the condescension is evident in his words and also knowing you’re too far gone to hear it, before rewarding you with his thumb pressed hard against your swollen, throbbing clit. “And what are you?”
You try to answer him but the pressure leaves you breathless, your lips parting only to suck in a gasp as he rubs one, two, three times. 
“What are you, honey?” He insists, letting up on your clit long enough for you to gather what wits remain and answer him. 
“I’m a baby, Seokmin, I’m your baby,” you weep, actual tears streaming down your face, and he coos, releasing your hands to swipe them away and suck his damp, salty fingers into his mouth before gathering up your wrists again. “Please let me cum, fuck me, use me, do whatever you want, just please please please, let me cum.”
You’ve never sounded like this before, so mindless, so needy, so perfect, and Seokmin can feel his cock get harder, feel it twitching in his boxers and leaking precum into the fabric. 
He’s pretty sure you get it now, and you asked so nicely…
“Alright, baby, I’ll fuck you. I’ll give you what you need. Because only I can do that, right?” He asks as he shoves his boxers down and climbs fully on top of you, hauling your legs onto his shoulders one at a time, waiting for your nod and near-delirious “Yes!” to pull his fingers out and slide home. 
You’re so fucking wet, wetter than you’ve ever been, your pussy locking down on his cock as soon as he bottoms out like you never want him to leave, like you want him to make a home inside of you and stay there. 
He would, fuck, he would. He would do anything for you, be anything for you (except a baby), and he needs to know that you know that. 
“Not goin’ anywhere, baby. Keep squeezing me, though, you know I fucking lo-love it,” he gasps, his own voice sounding suspiciously whine-like. Thankfully, you’re too fucked out to notice. 
He pulls his hips back until just the tip remains inside you, despite the resistance of your walls and the anguished sob you let out, and slams back into you, leaning down so close you’re practically folded in half, so close he’s nose to nose with you. He stares into your dazed, teary eyes, watching as he fucks the brain out of you, fucks all the big words and sarcastic remarks and ability to do math right out of your pretty little head. It’s beautiful to see, you’re beautiful, and he loves you, he loves you so fucking much he almost doesn’t know what to do with it sometimes, doesn’t know how to go about his daily life when his heart feels fit to burst, when he’d crack his rib cage open and hand it over to you if you asked, all you’d have to do is ask and he’d-
“Fuck, Seok-Seokmin, I need, please, I need-,” you beg rapturously, your sensitive walls fluttering around his cock as you climb the hill one last time. 
“I know what you need, baby, always know what you need, and I’ll always give it to you. You know that, right?” He presses his open mouth to yours, breathing his words onto your tongue and working a hand between your bodies to glide his fingers over your clit. You nod mindlessly as he fucks your cunt full and your head empty. 
You clench around him, your walls massaging his dick and your whimpers echoing in his ears. He’s just as close as you, knows your release will bring his, knows all he needs to do is tell you-
“Cum, honey, cum on my cock. Show me you’re my baby,” he commands, his voice rough and coming from deep in his throat. 
You listen, as always, clamping down on his cock like a vise and wailing through your orgasm. It’s heaven, you’re heaven, or as close as Seokmin will get before he actually dies, the wild pulse of your cunt around him sending him careening over the edge. His cum shoots into you, starts to gather in a ring around the base of his dick when it has nowhere to go but out, but he keeps bucking his hips, fucks his cum deeper and deeper inside until it stays. Until it sticks, an insidious voice whispers in the back of his mind. 
He shakes his head, knowing that’s not even close to a possibility yet, and wills his cock to stop twitching at the thought. You’re more than enough anyway, the life he shares with you more than he ever thought to hope for, more than he ever thought he deserved. His eyes trace over your face, imprinting the image of you - blissed out, tears wetting your lashes, your perfect lips parted - onto his mind. 
His sweet, little baby. 
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AN: idk where this came from (yes i do) but im glad it did byeeeeee
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sidekick-hero · 2 months
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(steddie | mature | 2k | tags: established relationship, post-s4, Valentine's Day, Robin is the best, fluff | summary: Steve loves Eddie, he really, really does. He just can't say it. | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is just a four-letter word by @sal-si-puedes | AO3)
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"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.
"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.
Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.
"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."
Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.
"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".
They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.
With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.
After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.
That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.
As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"
Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.
"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."
"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"
"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.
"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"
They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.
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His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.
It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.
He still does.
So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.
He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.
Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"
That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.
Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."
"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"
Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."
Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.
"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.
"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.
They don't let go for a long time.
It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.
So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.
"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."
Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"
Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."
"Oh."
It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.
"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."
Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.
"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."
Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"
"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."
Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.
"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."
And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.
Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.
"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"
Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"
Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.
"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.
Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.
"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.
Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.
He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.
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bywons · 1 month
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𖦹 ICE, ICE, BABY! — PSH
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⌕ where park sunghoon takes you on an ice skating date
pairing. bf!park sunghoon x f!reader wc. 0.5k tw/cw. kissing genre. fluff sru's note. requested ( CATALOGUE?! )
¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated, PLS REBLOG if u like the fic !
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the chilly winter air blooms goosebumps beneath your skin, eventually drying your lips which makes you lick them yet again. you wish you had brought lip balm with you to moisten your dehydrated lips, but a kiss from park sunghoon was just enough.
“c'mon, scared of a little ice skating?”, sunghoon smirks, suppressing a small giggle within himself as he watches you hold on to his shoulders for dear life to avoid a devastating crash against the ice floor beneath you.
“easy to say when you're a pro”, you scoff, your body gliding around the ice rink solely by the support of your boyfriend.
your ice skates did a horrible job of keeping you steady on your feet. your equilibrium constantly disrupts you, causing wobbly legs which makes you stumble, loud gasps leaving your mouth. or maybe you are at fault here really, first day at ice skating and expecting to ace it so quick? yeah, not happening.
but what did happen next had you screaming inside, and melting outside. your boyfriend of just four months, park sunghoon, kisses your cheek and paints it deeper, as he shoots the most endearing smile down at you, his hands wrapping tighter around your waist.
“does this help?”, he whispers. yeah well that does help you regain your stability and guide through the ice better indeed, your knees aren't wobbly anymore, the toe blades a lot more still.
but with that mesmerising face of his, not a single brain cell of yours could focus on the ice rink.
“kinda, i still c-can’t do it on my own though”, the stutter gives away your faux confidence and you mentally curse yourself.
“but i think you're doing just fine?”, sunghoon chuckles, letting his grip on your waist loosen up. and when you loose balance without his support again, it evolves to a laughter.
“totally not funny ‘hoon!”, you roll your eyes, your hands returning to his forearms to grip them harder, “why'd you bring me here to show off your ice skating skills and not even help me?”
“well maybe i also wanted to show off my girl at the ice rink?”, sunghoon says with a smug smile, to which he receives another eye roll from you, this time accompanied with a blush as he brings you forward face to face.
“really funny, nobody even knows us here”, you scoff.
“they don't have to”, sunghoon whispers again, his hands clasping the either sides of your face and pulling you dangerously close to his face, his starry eyes lost in yours.
and it's just a moments’ wait before sunghoons lips find yours, falling magically into puzzle pieces. it's soft, stirring and warm, immediately giving you butterflies in your stomach. you don't know how long the kiss lasted but every second of it felt so embracing. just like home.
you are the first one to pull back from the kiss, face hot and flushed from the kiss, and you try to look at his face but he's still looking at you, specifically your lips with his comforting touch lingering on your cheeks. you gulp, trying to hold back his forearms to stabilise yourself again.
but in the search of his hands, you find none on you.
“hey!”, sunghoon squeals, giving you the biggest toothy grin, “the kiss helped you skate huh?”
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© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @fleumiu @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @lilacnini @haechansbbg nets! @/k-labels
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wakandas-vibranium · 9 months
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Double Date
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Pairing: Fontaine x Black Fem!Reader
Warnings: smutty smut, 18+ content, minors DNI, oral(f+m receiving), protected p in v sex, dirty talk, daddy!kink, praise!kink, rough sex
Word count: 5k
Summary: Your coworker Yo-Yo is playing matchmaker and asked you to accompany her roommate on a double date.
A/N: Let’s get it started with these TCT fics!! If y’all writing ‘em, please tag me so I can read ‘em!! Please like, comment, and reblog!
You finished getting dressed, checked yourself in the mirror one last time, and smiled at how gorgeous you looked, so you grabbed your cell phone and purse and made your way downstairs to meet your Lyft driver. You couldn't wait for your automobile to be repaired because you loathed having to rely on others for transportation.
You were talking to your coworker Yo-Yo earlier this week about how you were touch starved and eager to jump back into the dating scene. Even though you had only worked with Yo-Yo for a little over four months, you had already come to think of her as a close friend. She just moved to Memphis not too long ago. 
Yo-Yo asked you on a double date with her and her boyfriend, claiming that Fontaine, her roommate, was the ideal man for you. 
You've seen Fontaine pick Yo-Yo up from work numerous times and have seen him drive that green car of his around town a few times, but you've never had the chance to actually talk to him. He always seemed to have a lot on his mind, but he was fine as hell, so of course you agreed to the double date. 
You suggested Melvin's, which was one of the few black-owned pubs in the neighborhood. They had delicious, mouthwatering food and a dance floor that never stayed vacant. 
Fontaine didn't appear to be the dancing type, which was fine by you. You just hoped that he would like you enough to bring you back home and fuck your brains out. It had been exactly 14 months, 12 weeks, 11 days, 13 hours, 22 minutes and 57 seconds since you had any kind of dick.
It was time.
Your Lyft driver pulled up in front of you at a quarter to eight, which was perfect because y'all had agreed to meet there at eight and it was only a ten-minute drive from your apartment.
"Lyft for Y/N?" said the older gentleman as he rolled down the passenger window.
You nodded at him, and he quickly stepped out to open the rear door for you, saying, "You lookin' good, young lady!" 
You smiled at him before ducking into the backseat, "Thank you."
Before you knew it, you were parked in front of Melvin's. A nervous chill swept over you. It had been a good lil minute since you've dated. You were rusty and willed yourself not to fuck up tonight.
Once you strutted inside, you spotted the three of them almost immediately. They were all in deep conversation and didn't notice you walk in. They picked a good table to sit at. One close to the bar and dance floor. It was a Thursday night, so it wasn't too packed, but it had a nice lil crowd. 
You tucked your phone inside your clutch, took a deep breath, and strolled confidently over to their table. 
All three of them turned their heads towards you as you neared the table. Yo-Yo beamed brightly at you and waved you over. Her boyfriend's eyes widened, and he mumbled something you couldn't hear, but it must have been inappropriate because Yo-Yo kicked him under the table. 
Fontaine raised his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. The flash of his gold teeth almost made your knees go weak, but you kept walking. You were a sucker for niggas with grills.
Yo-Yo’s man and Fontaine were on the same side of the booth. Yo-Yo was sitting across from her boyfriend, and the empty spot in front of Fontaine was reserved for you.
Yo-Yo stood up and hugged you tightly, "You look finer than a motherfucka!" 
You giggled, squeezing her back just as tightly, "Thank you girl! You look amazing too!" 
She broke the hug and motioned to the two men, "This is my man, Slick Charles, and this is Fontaine." She motioned for you to slide into the booth first, “And this is my coworker and friend Y/N." 
“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Slick Charles greeted as he held out his hand. You shook his hand before scooching over into the booth. 
“It’s good to meet you, Y/N,” Fontaine said as he extended his hand, “I’m Fontaine.” 
You placed your hand in his large palm, brown eyes locking with his brown eyes and smiled softly at him, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Fontaine.” 
He squeezed your hand, and a wave of warmth rushed through you. Under his intense gaze, you could feel your cheeks heating up. 
Were you really so touch-deprived that a simple handshake and eye contact were enough to make your black ass blush?
The server came over and greeted everybody warmly, saying, "Welcome to Melvin's. What drinks can I get started on for y'all?"
Yo-Yo ordered first, “I’ll have a Manhattan.” 
Then Slick Charles, “Yeah I’ll take a vodka cranberry with a splash of orange juice.” 
The waiter turned to you expectantly and you ordered, “A whiskey sour, please.” 
Fontaine ordered last, “Just a double shot of whiskey for me.”
“And did you want that neat or on the rocks?” 
“Neat.”
“I’ll be right back with your drinks.” 
“So,” you started as you watched the waiter walk off, “How are y’all liking Memphis so far?”
“I’m really enjoying it,” Yo-Yo chimed in. 
“Yeah,” Slick Charles agreed, “It’s a nice change from the Glen.”
“I like it here,” Fontaine added, “I like being in a place where not too many niggas know me.” 
“Well I’m glad y’all came to Memphis,” you admitted, smiling warmly at them. 
The waiter returned with your drinks and took your orders before walking away. 
“Slick, let's hit the dance floor while we wait for our food.” Yo-Yo said as she did a little dance at the table. 
“I ain’t got on my dancing shoes to—“
“—Nigga, get yo ass up and let’s dance.”
“I know we retired and all but I’m still—“ Slick Charles was cut off by Yo-Yo yanking him up and to the dance floor. 
“Are they always like that?” You asked, biting back a laugh as you watched Yo-Yo drag Slick Charles all the way to the dance floor.
“Pretty much,” Fontaine nodded, never taking his eyes off you, “How long you been in Memphis?”
“All my life.”
“You ain’t ever think about movin’ somewhere else?”
“Nah, not really,” you shrugged, “All my family is here, you know?” 
“Yeah, I get it.” 
You were surprised by how effortlessly the conversation flowed. You could talk to him for hours and never get tired of listening to his alluring voice. You were curious about the noises he made while he was balls deep in some pussy. You cleared your throat in an attempt to pull your thoughts out of the gutter. It didn't work.
“You been in a lot of relationships?” You asked, taking another swig of your drink. 
“Nah, I ain’t really have too many shawtys back in the Glen.” 
“Hmm, so you haven’t come across any Memphis women that caught your attention?”
“You caught my eye,” he stated, catching you off guard. 
“Is that so?”
“Mmhmm.”
“I’mma keep it real with you, Fontaine,” you said as you looked him straight in the eye, “I want you really bad.” 
“Shit then we on the same page,” he acknowledged, downing the rest of his drink. “So you comin’ back with me tonight?” 
You nodded, “I just have one condition though.” 
“And what’s that?” Fontaine questioned as he placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward a bit. 
You leaned across the table and motioned for him to come closer. When he was close enough to your liking you whispered, “You have to keep the grills on while you eat my pussy.” 
His brown eyes darkened with desire and a hint of mischief at your request. As your tongue glided across your bottom lip, his gaze drifted to your mouth. 
The sexual tension was so thick you could have sliced it with a butter knife.
“I can do that.” 
You inched closer to each other, your gaze never leaving the other's. From this close range, you could see that his pupils were dilated. You were positive that yours most likely were too. 
“Yeah? You promise?” The corners of your mouth couldn’t help but turn up into an infectious grin at the electric look he gave you.
“Promise.”
He closed what little distance was left between you and kissed your lips. Your eyes fluttered closed as you kissed him back with a quickness. Under his facial hair, his full lips were soft against yours and tasted of whiskey. 
The bustling noise of the forks scraping plates, the chatter of the other customers, and the thump of feet on the dance floor all faded away for a brief moment.
You rested your hands on his broad shoulders as he deepened the kiss, letting out a soft moan as his tongue brushed against yours. His hand was wrapped around your lower arm, softly caressing your brown skin. 
You got a little carried away as you slid your hands to the sides of his neck and gently tugged at his lower lip. The low grunt of surprise that he let out caused your clit to throb, and your nipples to harden. He didn't try to pull away from you though. He held both of your arms now and squeezed them tighter as his kisses became more heated.
You were seconds away from saying fuck it and pulling him into a bathroom stall, but you refrained. You had to maintain some type of decorum.
“Ahhh sookie sookie now!” Slick Charles chuckled as he made his way back to the table.
“Y’all niggas need to get a room,” Yo-Yo teased as she plopped down next to you. 
“These motherfuckas,” Fontaine grumbled as he pulled away. 
When you finally opened your eyes, you noticed that some other patrons were staring at you. You ignored them and focused your attention on Yo-Yo and Slick Charles, both of whom were smirking at you and Fontaine.
You were too turned on to be embarrassed, and fortunately, the waiter was on his way over with everyone's food.
The food was delicious as always, and the evening was going exceptionally well. Slick Charles was telling you how he met Yo-Yo, but you were zoning in and out. 
Every time you locked eyes with Fontaine, you squirmed in your seat a little. There was something in his fierce gaze that promised you a night of passion. 
You were so turned on that you couldn't even finish your food. You just ordered another whiskey sour and sipped on that until the others were finished and ready to leave.
The drive back to their place was smooth and just a vibe. Yo-Yo and Slick Charles sang along to the 90's R&B that played softly on the radio in the backseat, and you joined them a few times.
Fontaine sat in a comfortable silence, driving with one hand because his right hand was spread out over your thigh. When he would stop at a red light, he would squeeze it or rub it with his fingers. All the while not taking his eyes off the road, driving you insane, and making you wet for him. He had to know what he was doing to you. 
They lived in a pretty nice apartment complex. It wasn't too far from yours. Once Fontaine parked, you got out of the car and walked ahead with Yo-Yo, arm in arm.
You were elated that they lived on the first floor because your feet were killing you. Yo-Yo unlocked the door and you followed her inside. She pulled you through the apartment to the kitchen, handing you a bottle of water after she closed the fridge. 
You and she gushed over how great tonight turned out to be and how you both had naughty plans for your men.
A couple of minutes later, the fellas entered the apartment. Slick Charles called for Yo-Yo, who winked at you and gave you a thumbs up before exiting the kitchen.
You were halfway done with your water when Fontaine found you leaning against the kitchen counter.
“Hey,” he greeted.  
“Hi,” you replied, shooting him a warm smile. 
He pointed to the hallway, “My room is the last room on the left. I’ll meet you there in a min.” 
You nodded as you watched him shuffle out of the kitchen. You gulped down the last bit of your water and threw away the bottle before leaving the kitchen in search of his bedroom.
You found his room with ease, passing Fontaine, Yo-Yo and Slick Charles. The door was already open, so you headed in, not bothering to flip on the light because the tiny lamp on his nightstand illuminated the room plenty for you to see.
“Slick, what the fuck we gon’ do with glow in the dark condoms?” you heard Fontaine question from the other bedroom. You laughed to yourself. You weren’t completely against those types of condoms. 
Slick Charles went on about Fontaine being boring and how he needed to have some fun. You tuned him out as you took off your heels, sighing in relief while you walked around Fontaine’s room. 
You checked your phone to make sure there were no missed calls or texts before slipping it back in your purse. You placed your clutch on his dresser and checked yourself out in the mirror while you waited for him. You looked like a snack and you were definitely ready to be ate! 
Fontaine strolled into the room, shutting and locking the door behind him. You turned around to look at him. He held up a gold-colored foil packet and asked, “You ain't allergic to latex, right?" 
"Nah, I'm not allergic,” you assured him.
"Cool," he said as he pocketed the rubber and took his shoes and socks off, kicking them to the side before pulling you in by the waist and kissing you instantly. 
You kissed him back, your arms sliding up to wrap around his neck. His hands ventured down to your ass, squeezing it tight as he deepened the kiss. He swallowed your soft moans, licking into your hot mouth as he backed you into the dresser.
“Now I told yo ass to slow down before you injure a nigga’s back!” Slick Charles shouted through the walls. Yo-Yo said something back but you couldn’t make out what she had said. 
He broke the kiss, panting lightly as you both stared at each other for several seconds before he shook his head and you let out a giggle. Those two had to be the strangest and funniest couple you’d ever met. 
You felt his hardness against your thigh and you rubbed it. Damn, he was huge. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you, stretching your walls.
“You ready for Daddy to eat that pussy?” he asked as he took a step back, looking you up and down. 
Was the sky blue? Hell yeah, you were. 
You nodded enthusiastically as you pulled your dress over your head, tossing it onto the floor. He watched you undress with hungry eyes, palming his erection. Once you took off your bra and panties you sauntered over to the bed, sitting down slowly before spreading your legs. 
He yanked off his shirt, revealing his large chest and broad shoulders, throwing it on the floor with your pile of clothes. He followed you up the bed, pulling on your legs to bring you closer to his face. 
“Damn shawty,” Fontaine murmured as he rolled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, licking his lips at the captivating way your pussy glimmered in his dimly lit room. “All for me, huh?”
"All for you, Daddy," you sighed deeply in anticipation as you felt his breath on your sensitive cunt. His nose brushed against your clit, causing your thighs to tremble slightly.
Leaning on his forearms, his large hands rested atop your lower belly as he licked a warm stripe from your wet slit all the way to your clit, flicking it twice before closing his mouth around it. You could already tell that you wouldn’t last long.
“You taste good as fuck,” he praised, dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting your fresh juices. He slid his finger in, stretching you slowly as he licked around your clit, strong tongue pushing you closer to the edge. 
"Oooh just like that," you held the back of his head, moaning loudly, "Don't stop."
Your back arched off the bed, bringing your pussy closer to his talented mouth. Your thighs began to shake as your climax loomed. The sheer pleasure was almost too much for you. You tried to force your thighs closed, but Fontaine's hand pinned you down. He had you exactly where he wanted you.
You inhaled sharply and sank back against the pillows as he inserted a second finger, pumping you faster.
“Fuuuuck!” you moaned even louder. 
He softly nibbled your clit, and the coolness of his golds was all it took to send you tumbling over the edge.
“I can feel it,” he moaned against your sensitive bud, slurping up all your juices, “Let it all out for Daddy.” 
His filthy words and the calculated flicks of his tongue had your mind whirling and your heart pounding. Every mind-boggling wave of bliss flooded through your veins, causing you to shiver uncontrollably as you tugged on his locs. At the moment, you couldn't form any words. All you could do was pant harshly and let out all kinds of obscene noises.
When he finally felt your body go limp, he pulled off your clit and eased his fingers out of you. Fontaine planted a few soothing kisses on your thighs before sitting up.
Your eyes were still closed, and your breaths were finally slowing, but you could feel his eyes on you and hear him sucking his fingers.
You peeked through one eye and found him kneeling over you, completely naked now, stroking his massive dick as he watched you with a mischief glint in his dark eyes. 
“I see you smirkin’, nigga,” you blurted, pointing at him as you glowed blissfully.
He tried to cover his smile but you saw it anyway. He playfully smacked your hand and said, “I was just tryna make sure you wasn’t ‘bout to pass out on a nigga.” 
“Yeah, yeah..”
He continued to stroke his dick as he lay on his back beside you. You turned your head to the side to get a better look, and your mouth watered at the sight. 
"Come taste this dick," he commanded as he watched you ogle it.
You sat up on your knees and leaned forward, taking it in both your hands. He had to have been eight or nine inches in length and was very girthy; his dick curved to the left too. It had been a while since you gave head, but you were determined to make him feel good. 
You wrapped your lips around the tip. It was warm and velvety against your tongue. You let the soft feel of Fontaine's dick run over your tongue, relishing the taste as you took him down as far as you could go, breathing through your nose. He hissed lowly as the wet heat of your mouth engulfed him. 
You licked a wet stripe up and down the length of his shaft before rising up to close your lips around the crown, stroking the rest of his rod swiftly. 
You glimpsed up at Fontaine through your eyelashes. The heated stare he gave you was enough to make you feel lightheaded. His golds flashed at you as he sank his teeth into his bottom lip. The sight had you dripping for him.
He moaned your name, stretching out his legs as he cupped the back of your head. You swirled your tongue around, drawing out a long groan from him as you flattened your tongue down the underside of his tip. He lifted his hips, thrusting up as he held your head in place. 
You moaned as he fucked up into your mouth, your left hand braced on his knee while the other fondled his balls. Tears pricked your eyes as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him down as much as you could, gagging briefly as the tip of his dick slipped down the back of your throat.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped as he halted his movements and gripped your shoulder, “Stop before I nut.” 
You pulled off with a loud pop, placing one final kiss onto the swollen, spit-gleaming tip before climbing up his body and crushing your lips against his in a sloppy kiss. His big hands roamed all over your body, squeezing your supple ass while he kissed you back just as sloppily.
"Aight, lay back for me," he murmured, breaking the kiss and pushing you onto your back, moving with a skilled quickness to put the magnum on before slotting himself between your spread legs. 
He lined himself up against your entrance, dragging his dick up and down your wet slit, only stopping to tap his fat tip against your sensitive clit, making you gasp and jerk beneath him in anticipation.
He slowly pushed inside, and your mouth fell open, but you quickly closed it, fighting back the scream that was about to escape.
“Shit,” he groaned deeply, pulling out a little once he was halfway in, and sinking back in, watching your pussy stretch around him. “You squeezin’ a nigga.” 
The pressure of the stretch stung, so you just bit your bottom lip, clung to the sheets and breathed deeply through your nose until the feeling subsided.
“You good?” he asked, voice laced with concern, stopping all movement when he realized just how quiet you were being. 
You opened your eyes, and his worried eyes swept your face, looking for any sign of pain. It was almost as though he was splitting you in two. You had to take a few more deep breaths in order to relax.
"Yeah, I'm good," you assured him as you let go of the covers and clung to his arms. "Your dick is huge, Fontaine goddamn."
He grinned at your confession and pulled all the way out before plunging back in, damn near knocking the wind out of you. 
“Oh my god,” you gasped, legs spreading wider to grant him better access. 
Once he was buried deep inside you, you let out a moan so inviting that he couldn't resist lowering his head and capturing your lips with his. You stroked his cheeks and tugged him closer, kissing him with all the fervor you could muster.  
“Shit, you feel good,” he praised, moaning softly as he began to circle his hips. 
“Please fuck me harder,” you sighed deeply, hands moving down to cup your breasts.
He straightened up and began to thrust inside you, picking up the tempo once he established a good rhythm. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of your wetness, his hips slamming hard against yours, and heavy breaths.
“Fontaine,” you moaned breathlessly. He groaned in response as he was beginning to love the way you called his name. 
“You look so pretty takin’ all this dick,” he praised, grip on your thighs tightening as he fucked you even faster. Warmth spread across your chest at the praise, and more wetness oozed out of your tight hole.
His hand slid up your body, squeezing your breast while the other bounced freely. Listening to him groan and grunt in delight was music to your ears, and it made your clit throb harder.
The intensity of the pleasure washed over you until it was all you could feel pulsing through your veins. He was fucking you so good. When you realized how loud you were being, you snapped your mouth shut, stifling your moans.
"Nah, I want to hear you,” he growled low in your ear, thrusting harder and deeper, “Tell me how good Daddy dick feels.” 
You couldn't help but whimper as he brushed against that sweet spot deep inside of you. “You—ah shit—feel so fuckin’ good!”
“I’m hittin’ that spot, huh?” Fontaine chuckled cockily, gold chain dangling against your chin. 
“Yesss Daddy! Ple—please don’t stop,” you begged. 
“What a nigga get if he don’t stop?”
“Anything!” you cried out, squeezing your legs around him and holding onto his shoulders as he pounded you into the mattress. “Shit— Fontaine I’m ‘bout to cum,” you breathed shakily, toes curling as your eyes snapped shut. 
“I want that shit,” he grunted loudly as he felt your walls contract around him, “Cum all over this dick.” 
You sank your teeth into his shoulder, biting down hard, muffling your screams of pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you. He sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasurable pain and as your cunt clenched so tightly around him, cumming hard, creaming all over his dick.
He whispered soothing things to you as your body convulsed in his arms. He held you tighter as he traced kisses all over your face and down your neck, shifting his rhythm back to a gentle rock. 
Once you came to your senses, you opened your eyes and gasped at the teeth marks you had left on his shoulder.
“Oh shit Fontaine,” you whispered as you traced the bite mark with your thumb, “I ain’t mean to bite you.” 
“Nah, you good,” he huffed, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m actually into that shit.” 
“Good to know.”
He waited a few more seconds before pulling out. He climbed off of you, kneeled on the bed, and scooched back to give you room to move, “Hands and knees, Y/N.” 
You happily obliged by rolling onto your stomach and arching effortlessly on your hands and knees.
You and Fontaine moaned in unison when he entered you in one swift motion, hips smacking against your asscheeks as he set a brutal pace. This must have been his favorite position because he wasn’t fucking around this time. Your desperate whimpers and the wet sound of skin slapping skin filled the bedroom once again. You took every inch he gave you, arms stretched out in front of you, fingers gripping the sheets as you rocked back against him. 
“Yeah, that’s right,” he grunted as he smacked your asscheek, “Fuck me back just like that.” 
His grip was so tight on your waist that you knew your hips would be sore in the morning. The thought alone made you wetter so you threw it back even harder.
It didn't take long for Fontaine to elicit another orgasm from you, causing your knees to buckle and slump against the mattress. He followed you down, chest pressed against your back, still pounding his thick dick inside you and panting against your ear.
As he placed all of his weight on you, his large hands wrapped around yours, fingers intertwining as he continued to give you the best dick you'd ever had. He was grinding so hard and deeply into you, muttering filthy words in your ear. The boundless pleasure was starting to become overwhelming. You couldn't cum again. You were almost certain that you'd pass smooth the fuck out if you came a fourth time. You needed him to cum. 
“Fon—fuuuuck! Please cum for me!” 
“You want Daddy to nut?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whined, eyes rolling back as he brushed against your g-spot yet again. 
“Aight, c’mere,” He rose back up on his knees, tugging you along with him. You braced yourself on your hands and knees. He slowly rocked into you a few times before setting a merciless pace, fucking the breath right out of your lungs.
“Goddamnit,” you rasped, “You fuck me so good!”
As he repeatedly hammered away at your g-spot, all you could do was grab the sheets and scream his name. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. As your walls tightened around his fat dick, you trembled, gasping and whimpering. You were a mess. Another orgasm blasted through you, taking you both by surprise and blurring your vision. It took all your strength not to fall forward as your thighs shook violently.
Fontaine grunted loudly as he rutted against you like a mad man, smacking your asscheeks over and over, chasing his own orgasm. He let out a low, guttural groan, thrusts faltering as he twitched inside of you, cumming hard. 
You both panted harshly and were completely fucked out. Arms and legs weaker than SWV.
He trailed kisses down your sweat-glistening back before pulling out of you. Once he was free, you slumped all the way forward, your head resting against a pillow. He carefully pulled the condom off, tied it, and tossed it into the bin beside his nightstand before plopping down next to you. 
Still splayed out on your stomach, you scooched as close to him as you could, cupped his face, and just gazed down into his eyes as you swiped your thumb across his hairy cheek. 
He mirrored your gaze, his eyes less intense than usual, and wrapped his arm around your waist, massaging small circles into your lower back with the pads of his fingertips.
After a prolonged moment of silence, in-tune gazes, and soft caresses, you broke the silence and said, "That was fuckin' amazing."
He nodded his head in agreement so you asked him, “When can we do this again?” 
“Whenever you want,” he said before pulling you down into a tender, biting kiss. He sucked in your lower lip and licked into your mouth teasingly. You tugged on his bottom lip, softly sighing as you ran your tongue across his golds, shifting so you were half on top of him, chest to chest.
Good, you thought. Because you definitely planned on sticking around. Good dick and conversation? There was no way you were passing that up. 
“Goddamn ‘Taine! You ain’t have to upstage a pimp like that!” Slick Charles hollered through the walls. 
You broke the kiss, gasping at the random outburst. 
“Nigga, shut yo retired ass up!” Yo-Yo said just as loud.
Fontaine tried to hold it, but one look at your amused face had him chuckling and shaking his head fondly at his roommates.
1K notes · View notes
artiststarme · 8 months
Text
Steve and Robin lose their job at Family Video in the wake of that fateful Spring Break but not for the reasons one might think. It wasn’t because they closed early on one of their busiest days to track down the town’s infamous ‘murderer’. It wasn’t because they skipped their shifts for four days in a row. It wasn’t even because they told Keith to his face that ‘they would rather die in the earthquake and fall into hell than work another boring shift’.
No, they lost their jobs because of a grudge they kept. Both Steve and Robin refused to sell any tapes to anyone they thought may have been involved with Eddie’s manhunt, unfair people’s trial, or the continued harassment after he was proclaimed innocent. Justifiably, they had their reasons.
“Oh no Andy, we can’t let you rent this one. You’ve already lost enough brain cells being brainwashed by Jason. Maybe watch the news or something.”
“Mrs. Wheeler? You absolutely may not rent anything. Maybe go call the police again since that’s what you like doing.”
“Oh ho ho, Officer Callahan! Funny to see you here, you know, not hunting down children. Get out of here. Come back when you have a warrant, asshole.”
So yes, they lost their jobs but not their dignity. Inevitably, when they went back to the Munson’s new trailer or to Steve’s empty house, they had what really mattered. They could watch the movies off of tapes they stole, Steve could cuddle in Eddie’s scarred arms, and Robin could rant about how many films would be better with lesbians in them. As it should be.
(They lose a series of jobs after Family Video as well. Robin and Steve get fired from the diner, the library, and Melvald’s all for refusing business to the asshats that made Eddie’s life hell. Because in their eyes, the whole town could suck it.)
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strawberry-whorecake · 8 months
Text
Hopeless | K.R.
Tumblr media
pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader
summary: Love? Kylo Ren wasn’t in love… was he? How could he be in love? How could someone like you make him feel like this?
word count: 4.4k
warnings: fluff, slight graphic depictions, swearing, kylo ren is in denial
requested by: @artemiscrios
A/N: i’m sorry this request took so long but i hope you like it !!! if you’re interested i’d be more than willing to make a pt 2 that includes smut- this prompt just felt so fitting to be a fluff
He was utterly kriffed.
He was Supreme Leader of the First Order— the man single-handedly going to bring justice to the galaxy. He was strong… powerful.
Yet here he was. And here you were. 
He remembered how everything had started.
“Eat.” he ordered, he couldn’t help the demanding tone in his voice as he looked at you. 
You sat with your back to him, refusing to look at him. “I’m not hungry.” you retorted. 
His eye twitched, but even though you wouldn’t turn to him his mask concealed it anyway. “You haven’t eaten in four days.” 
“I’m not eating anything you bring me.” you spat. 
Gods he wished you would just give in. To stop resisting him. 
With a quick-drawn and sharp inhale he keeled forward, placing the tray on the floor of your cell. He watched as your head turned ever so slightly, peering from the corner of your eyes over your shoulder. He stood to his full height, clasping his hands behind his back. 
“You’d be wise to do as you’re told. You’re not going anywhere. You have nowhere to go.” 
He’d almost thought he’d imagined it… but no. It was there. That ever so soft sniffle that gently echoed off the walls. He stood utterly still for a moment, swallowing down the urge to huff as his eye twitched again.
“Eat.” he mustered up once more. Hands still clasped behind his back he swiveled and exited your cell, his composure as collected as ever. 
But Kylo didn’t want to admit it… you enveloped him. 
He remembered your first night upon the Finalizer you were rowdy, kicking and screaming, baring your teeth and snarling. Combative. Your second day wasn’t much different. He could feel your indignation— your anger. 
The third day greeted him with the silent treatment, your newfound attempt at torturing him since you discovered your pugnaciousness got you nowhere. 
Then, day four, he could feel it. The dejection. 
You were no longer in denial nor angry, but you refused acceptance, settling yourself into despondency. 
Kylo stalked the halls, the influxes of greetings and polite bows seemed almost blurred in his mind as his brain raced a mile a minute. 
Regret? Kylo Ren didn’t feel regret— he shouldn’t feel regret. 
“We’ve acquired an escapee, Supreme Leader.” a pair of Stormtroopers dragged a shaking and writhing little thing towards him, shouting and arguing against their hold on her body. 
“Let me go! PUT ME DOWN!” sobs wracked your words, your breaths gasping as you tried to swallow down oxygen. 
He didn’t blame your hysteria. The scene unfolding before your eyes was a gruesome one. Bodies splayed the streets of Cardota, blood soaked the pavements. Structures crumbled, dust filled the air. And it was all his doing. 
He stood watching, silent, as the Stormtroopers forced you to your knees before him, you still fought against them, but the trembling made you weak in comparison to them. “Should we kill her too, Supreme Leader?” 
He parted his lips beginning to order that everyone was to be terminated— until his eyes fell onto yours.
Wide, brimming with tears of pain and anger. His words paused in his throat. You had no way of knowing, but as soon as your gazes locked, it was game over.
“No.” he ordered instead. “Release her.” 
He saw the relief flood to your system, but that’s not what he’d meant. The Stormtroopers slackened their grip as Kylo watched you fall to the ground before attempting to scramble upward. 
With an eased outstretch of his hand your movements ceased, the Force straining your muscles and pinning you to the ground, your eyes still wide, still enraged and sorrowful, but now they glimmered with a hint of confusion. 
He crouched down, waving his leather cladden hand across your face and gently ordered, “Sleep.”
Watching as you had no choice to compel, your eyes fluttered shut as your consciousness drifted away. 
“Pull out the divisions, our job here is done.” he ordered the Stormtroopers, ignoring the chorus of “Yes, Supreme Leader.” as he kept his mask locked on you. 
He swept forward, effortlessly pulling you into his arms, cradling you like a small and defenseless child. Your unconscious head laid against his rapidly beating heart, his thoughts reeling— what was he doing? 
Why did he feel this… this need to be near you— as if he wanted to protect you?
He carried you onto his ship, transferring you into a cell as he carefully, as if you’d shatter with too much pressure, laid you on the floor. 
Safe. On his ship. His. 
Kylo didn’t regret the blood that was shed, that tainted his hands. He didn’t feel sorry for any of the lives he’d taken… right?
But something possessed him— something soiled his spirits the moment he met your eyes, and it only worsened when he’d carried you in his arms.
Who were you? You were nobody, surely. Just a Cardota local girl. You had no affiliations with the war, with his plans for the galaxy— one half of him argued.
The other half begged to differ. You were someone. He could sense it within you every time he was near you, and kriff’s sake he couldn’t stand to not be near you… that was definitely something. 
But what was it about you? 
He’d whisked off to his private quarters, his mind still reeled with you— it was completely encompassed with you… why?
It infuriated him, part of him wanted to kill you, be free of the drawing compulsion he felt towards you. But he couldn’t seem to do it. Just the idea of killing you filled him with a feeling he hated more than his affliction for you. A feeling he thought he was better than to feel. 
Even on the other side of the ship he could hear into your thoughts as if you were clearly speaking to him. He could hear your indignation toward him and the hint of exhaustion in your scorn. You despised him— he’d taken everything from you. 
He crossed his chambers, ripping open the door to the private sections where the remnants of his grandfather’s mask laid awaiting him.
He crouched, not much unlike a pleading child. “Help me, Grandfather.” he whispered, his eyes shutting and his hand hovering over the mask. “Help me understand.” 
His desperate calls came unanswered, swelling a low broiling anger in his stomach. “I need to know what it is about her.” he demanded. 
Nothing. 
He ripped his eyes open, lip curling in irritation. Why was she in his head? What made her so special to make the Supreme Leader feel like this?
Practically leaping off the ground he turned his back on his grandfather’s mask, making his way to his sleeping quarters as he tugged off his own mask, throwing it with little care across the room.
He sank onto the edge of his bed, his elbows propped on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. His head throbbed and that constant simmering, slow-churning anger seeped through his skin, rolling off of him in waves.
Why her?
He was about to throw his fist into the nearest piece of furniture when something washed over him. Something replaced the meek dullness he felt. 
As he sank himself deeper into the sensation, he allowed himself to feel. Ravenous and fulfilling. 
She’s eating. 
The realization surged over him with complete understanding. He could practically feel himself sigh. 
Good. Compliance. 
He’d kept you for a while now, almost like an experiment. Testing himself, his limits around you. 
He allowed himself to feel how he felt when he was near you. Trying several different approaches— spending too much time with you, staying away from you. 
All he gathered from this was being around you calmed him, it relieved that dull rage that constantly coursed through his system, and when he left you, it’d return. 
In the time he’d kept you captive he’d learned everything he possibly could about you. Who you physically were, where and what you came from. Your lineage, your occupation on Cardota. Every fact he could absorb, he did. 
The information he wanted to know, and still didn’t— which bugged the everliving stars out of him— was why you still made him feel this way.
When he was away from you, he could feel it swelling inside him. He scrutinized himself for the way he just wanted to be in your presence again— the way he craved it. The serenity you seemed to bring.
Kylo lost sleep over you. It was pathetic. 
Every night was the endless cycle of not hearing your thoughts while your mind was at ease, caught up in the bliss and the comfort of sleep. If he focused hard enough he could hear your soft breaths. He wondered what you looked like as you slept… if you slept more pleasantly than him. 
Sleep haunted him, his demons clawed at him when his eyes shut, it was never refreshing. He wondered if you felt refreshed when you’d awaken.
He wondered if you dreamed blissfully, whereas he was cursed with nightmares. Then a thought wafted over him— you were pure.
The only time he managed to fall asleep and stop thinking of you was if he imagined holding you as you slept. 
Pathetic. He reminded himself.
You made him feel unstable yet at peace all at the same time and it drove him insane. 
He’d indulged himself in your company, even if you were begrudging. Under his mask he quirked a smirk, watching as you crossed your arms, looking around the room to anywhere but him. 
You didn’t have to speak, he could hear you nonetheless. Your thoughts. 
“You’re restless.” his modulated hum rang out. His words were direct, but his tone was gentle. 
“How long are you going to keep me here?” you bit back. 
“Where else do you have to go?” he returned.
He cursed his words as soon as he’d uttered them. That indignation, that dull ache of your own rolled off of you and onto him. 
“That wouldn’t be the case if you hadn’t raided my planet and destroyed the Hosnian system.” your tone oozed with bitterness as your hands gripped your arms.
He couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’re going to stay upset about that, are you?” 
You scoffed, “Yes.” 
“Then I regret to inform you you’ll have quite the unpleasant while.” he leaned his head back, his eyes still glued to you. 
“You could always just kill me.” you spit. 
“I’ve already told you that’s not going to happen.” his voice hardened. Your continuous pleas for him to just finish you off were growing tiresome. 
‘He’s a horrible monster in a mask- and he’s insufferable. He keeps me around like some little pet, refusing to let me go or kill me.’ your thoughts reverberated around his own skull. 
His lip quirked upwards again, entertained. 
Pet? You saw yourself as a pet to him? Oh, how delightfully wrong you were. If only you knew how you drew him in— if you only knew of the pull you had on him.
“Insufferable, am I?” he almost cooed. 
“Get out of my head.” you spat. 
Monster in a mask, he thought. Was he a monster? Maybe his actions were ‘monstrous’, but were they not justified? Every decision he’s made had led him to where he is now. 
Oh right… to being tormented by this girl. 
He stood, eyeing you for a moment as you watched him, swallowing down your hopes for his departure. Funny you’re not used to his company by now. 
“Monster in a mask…” he repeated your thoughts back to you, earning a disinterested hum in response. 
“You can’t deny your curiosity.” As he looked at you, you looked at him. His hands seemed to move on their own accord. They found the edges of his mask, and with an eased sweep he pulled it from his head. His eyes fell on you— and your eyes looked into his, unconcealed for the first time. 
He watched your eyes drift over his features, soaking in his appearance. He ignored the way his heart rate picked up. You were quiet, completely thoughtless for a moment, and he couldn’t hold back his smirk. He’d taken you by surprise. 
“I suppose it’s time we met, face to face… after all, you’re not going anywhere any time soon.” His eyes drifted over you, soaking you in as he set his mask on the cot he’d been sitting.
He relished in the soft little hiccup sound you made at hearing his unmodulated voice. How your eyes gently widened and how your heart skipped a beat. 
But as quickly as these appeared they faded. Changed into something else—
Confusion, he finally recognized.
“What do you want with me?” you piped up, making him cock his head in intrigue. “You won’t kill me, you won’t let me go… so what is it you want?” 
A little voice in his head seemed to speak up for him, You, but he quickly stifled its words. 
“I want to know why you have this hold on me.” he spoke truthfully. 
He watched as your forehead crumpled but your eyes remained wide in disbelief. “Hold I have on you!?” you practically squeaked. He nodded, “Yes.” 
You scoffed, which normally he’d have taken offense to, but it oddly piqued his interest. “You’re holding me captive.” you reminded him. 
“Yes, I’m aware of the circumstances.” he clasped his hands behind his back, still not removing his gaze from you, and it pleased him that you didn’t shy away from looking back. 
He looked to the ground for a moment as he took a sweeping step forward, bringing himself closer to you, his eyes falling on you again as you looked up at him from the floor. 
“What is it you’ve inflicted on me?” he asked, utterly serious, and a twinge of annoyance struck him as you let out an incredulous laugh. 
“Why is it that you are all I can think about? That when I’m around you I find myself at ease?” His expression hardened as he spoke, his eyes almost glaring. His desperation for the truth was affecting him. 
There was a beat as you stared at him and he looked back at you. “Tell me.” he ordered.
You scoffed again, “I don’t know what this obsession is you have with me- but I didn’t inflict you with anything.”
Obsession? Surely it wasn’t obsession… right?
He stared at you, his eyes still slightly glaring as he looked at you just as incredulously as you looked at him. 
“Why?” he asked again. 
Your brows furrowed as you shook your head. “I don’t know why you’re in love with me!? Gods you’re insufferable!” you spat.
His brows raised before he let out an almost jeering laugh. “In love with you? I couldn’t be farther from in love with you.” 
You looked at him for a long moment, his gaze locked on yours as you both silently sized each other up. 
“Let me go then.” you finally broke the silence. Your words took him aback, not that he wasn’t expecting them, but they did manage to surprise him. 
“That’s not happening.” he turned away from you, shaking his head. He heard you scoff once more, but he ignored it. Your rising agitation only made the feeling gurgle within him, and he knew his visitation for the day was over. 
He pulled his helmet back on, looking at you for a moment. When you’d turned your head, crossing your arms once more, he tutted softly before exiting your cell. 
He remembered how his mind had reeled as he retired from your cell. 
In love? In love?! 
What did the Supreme Leader need with love?! It was preposterous. First Order sympathizers looked up to him, practically ate out of his palm. He could have the whole galaxy and he would soon enough, so what did he need with love?
The word ‘love’ reverberated around his brain like a blaster shot bouncing around a contained room. 
He didn’t feel love– the idea that he did brought a low boil of anger to his gut. Love was useless to him, how dare you suggest he was in love with you.
Sure, he’d give it to you, maybe he was a little obsessed with you, with the way you made him feel– but him in love with you? No way. He refused to accept it. 
He needed to reach out to his grandfather again, to beg for answers. He needed to know why it felt like you had him in your grip when he was the one with the hold on you. 
Crouched once again on the floor before his grandfather’s mask, his hand hovering above it, he pleaded out. “Please, Grandfather. I need to understand.” 
His desperations came answered, but not in the way he expected– or the way he was ready for. 
He was met with a vision of your eyes on him again, looking into his eyes. He saw you reach out for him and he wanted to cower away, but he just couldn’t seem to do it, and a moment later he found your hand in his before he pulled you tightly to his body. 
He held you for a long moment, and he almost swore he could actually feel you against him, but as soon as he thought he could, you vanished from his grip and he was filled with a feeling of longing and emptiness. 
‘Love’ echoed around his brain again. 
“Fuck.” his eyes shot open and his hand withdrew rapidly from above his grandfather’s mask. He recalled the way he’d met you, the way he felt when he first looked into your eyes. 
The obsession he had for you, the way he wanted to protect you, how he felt at ease in your company. 
He wanted to ravish you, show you things you’d never experience without him. He wanted to watch your eyes light up as he showed you unseen parts of the galaxy… from beside him. 
The draw he had to you… it was… love. 
What was he to do with this realization? Surely you couldn’t love him back— for stars sake he took you captive. You were prisoner on his ship. 
How could he make you see he only did what he did because he was, in fact, in love with you?
That’s when things changed. That’s when Kylo extended an olive branch and after a while, you accepted it. That’s why you were where you were now and Kylo Ren was completely and utterly kriffed. He was Supreme Leader of the entire galaxy… he could have anything— he could get anything, what did he need with you? Why did he need you?
Yet here you were. In his quarters, lying beside him in his bed, so sweet and gently sleeping.
As soon as you willingly moved from your quarters to his, he knew it there was no use arguing how he felt. While he was comforted by your presence, so much so as to almost lure him to sleep, he couldn’t stop himself from peering through his closed eyes at you every time you rolled over, sighed, groaned softly– or worse– moved closer to him. 
You moved restlessly as you slept, and it slightly annoyed Kylo, that’s why he couldn’t seem to stop himself when he threw his arms around you and tugged you against his chest, keeping you pinned against him. But to his surprise, you stilled. And you stayed that way as long as he held you. 
He constantly wracked his brain wondering why you’d meant so much to him. You were a prisoner, you were his captive. And yet without you knowing, you had him wrapped around your finger. Why? What was it about you that drew him into you– and after a while, you into him? 
Regret.
You should hate him, he’d hated himself. Not only for what he’d done, but for what he did to you. He’d taken everything from you and left only him for you to know, so why did you give in?
He remembered that switch in your brain. When you finally stopped fighting him– wanting to escape, being defensive and aggressive– and you gave in. As if you’d accepted that he was your new normal, and you didn’t fight it, in fact, you welcomed it. Why? What changed?
Was it him? He supposed he had been trying to be nicer to you. He granted you your own quarters, he allowed you to have a little more freedom, all the while you were his prisoner.
Maybe it was when he opened up and he talked to you. He told you all about his desires and his aspirations not just for himself, but for the galaxy… and you listened. He liked that you didn’t just accept everything he said, that you were a little combative. That you argued against his means and questioned his motives.
He wasn’t sure why, but you liked listening to him talk, and even more confusing, he liked talking to you.
He couldn’t seem to help himself from telling you anything and everything, even the minute details about his life such as what he ate for breakfast, and what his favorite color was. He liked that you listened, really listened.
You didn’t listen like everyone else who just accepted what he said as fact. You listened and processed what he’d tell you, and you’d respond.
He also liked that you weren’t afraid of him. Not anymore at least, though, he’d argue you never really were. Even the moment he took you on board the Finalizer, you never once showed him you were afraid of him. You were strong. Something else he supposed he liked about you.
He could easily destroy you, and in a way he had, but he didn’t want to, at least not anymore. Something about you made him want to protect you, to care for you. Why?
You thrashed gently in his arms, tearing his attention down to you. When his eyes met yours he found you looking up at him with your tired, but ever so gorgeous eyes. 
“Do you ever sleep?” you hummed half-consciously. “No.” he said mostly jokingly, though his tone was firm and serious. He was relieved when a small smile pulled on your pretty lips anyways.
“I don’t keep you up, do I?” you yawned, shifting in his arms a little. He froze– you were worried about him? His lips parted to speak, to question why you cared, but he couldn’t seem to find the means to ask. 
“No. If anything I sleep better when you’re near.” 
This time you froze– and he scrutinized himself. Why did he say that? Why did he think that was something he should’ve ever admitted?
Time seemed to slow as you looked up at him, and him down at you. Part of him argued to let you go, release you from his hold, but the other half of him begged to pull you closer.
You pulled away from his arms, and he hated the way it felt like his heart sank– how he felt disappointed, but he acted as if it didn’t bother him as he watched you pull yourself up on your arms. He feigned a look of indifference as you looked at him, your emotions so strong he could feel them radiating off of you. 
Confusion, intrigue… want.
Then you did the unthinkable. Your hand gently met his cheek and he had to fight the urge to snatch your hand off and push you away, after all, he didn’t want to scare you, not anymore.
He watched as your eyes fell from his to where your hand laid against his cheek, then they moved to his lips.
Just enough time passed for his heartbeat to quicken and thump against his ribcage before you leaned in and your lips were on his. 
He stilled for a moment, watching, waiting as you took the lead, but he finally allowed himself to kiss you back.
When you pulled away you both eyed each other, like you were silently sizing the other up. “Why did you do that?” he asked, breaking the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.
“To see what you’d do.” you answered as if it was the most obvious answer in the galaxy. When his eye twitched slightly, you giggled, “Well? How do you feel?” you asked, as you pulled your hand away from his cheek.
Hopeless.
Kylo Ren— Supreme Leader of the galaxy felt hopeless.
Hopelessly in love with you. 
You possessed him, you made him feel things that he swore he’d never feel again. He was supposed to be angry, cruel, the embodiment of revenge and power… and yet he was in love with you. 
He wanted to give you everything. He’d pluck every star from the galaxy for you if it meant he’d get to see that smile of yours, to see the way your eyes would sparkle. He needed you. 
He snatched up your face with much more haste than he’d meant, but it didn’t matter. He needed to feel your lips on his again, to feel the feeling of you against him and the way everything felt right when you were near.  And you didn’t fight. 
You let him as he wrapped his free arm around your waist, tugging your body against his as his lips pressed to yours. 
He kissed like he was a drowning man and you were the smallest bit of oxygen that would give him a second wind to keep going. Because that’s how you made him feel. 
Kylo Ren was drowning. Drowning in responsibilities, in expectations of what he needed to do and who he should be, but around you, Kylo Ren could breathe. 
All responsibilities and expectations died away, and he could simply be. 
Your arms tangled around his neck, pulling yourself impossibly closer as your lips worked in synchronization, each of you battling for the upper hand to kiss with the most passion. To kiss with love. 
As much as it didn’t make sense to him— you did. Everything felt at ease with you, and here and now, he was finally accepting that he didn’t need to fight it. That everything you made him feel wasn’t weakness, but that you gave him an unknown source of strength. 
You were intoxicating. He couldn’t even pinpoint what it was about you that he liked the most. He liked you as a whole. You pulled him in and made him feel safe… like he belonged, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever truly felt.
You were supposed to be his, he was supposed to have you wrapped around his finger, eating out of his hand, but he was so wrong.
You didn’t know it, and he may not be ready to tell you, but he was yours.
Kylo Ren was yours.
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lewkwoodnco · 2 months
Text
Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader
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“First person to laugh loses.”
”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”
”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”
It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.
“Deal.”
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a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)
warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them
word count: 2.6k!
TAGLIST | MASTERLIST
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She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.
George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.
"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."
"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."
"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"
"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."
"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."
She handed out the mugs of tea.
"What pickup line?"
"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day." 
She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.
"S'that?"
"A bill."
"What bill?"
"Nothing to worry about."
"I'm not worried."
"Good."
"Show me the bill."
"You're adorable."
It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.
"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."
He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.
"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."
That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.
"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."
"Not more terrible than you."
"I beg to differ!"
"Wanna bet?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
“First person to laugh loses.”
”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”
”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”
It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.
“Deal.”
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Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.
"What did you do?"
"Nothing."
"What are you going to do?"
"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes. 
"No thanks."
"How about a date?"
"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."
"Hmm, excuses, excuses."
"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."
"NO no no no please please please -"
She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.
"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."
She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."
"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."
She paused for a minute.
"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."
"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.
"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"
"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.
"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"
"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."
She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.
She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.
"Is everything okay?" 
He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.
"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."
The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.
"Good one," she whispered.
He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.
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"Did it hurt?"
"When I fell from heaven?"
"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."
With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.
"I was checking for broken bones."
"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"
He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.
"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."
"...concussion?"
"Nuh-uh."
That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.
It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.
With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.
It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.
And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.
As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.
As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.
"How're you feeling?"
"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."
"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"
"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"
"...huh?"
"Because you are building."
"What."
"I win."
He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face. 
"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."
He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"
"I...what?"
"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"
"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"
"You's got a Brooklyn accent."
"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."
He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.
"Just so you know...I do think you're building."
The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.
"I think you're building too."
She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.
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She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.
"Oh. Hey."
He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."
She smiled. "Feeling better?"
"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."
He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.
"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that." 
"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."
Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.
“Did it hurt?”
She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”
“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.
“I’ve already heard this one.”
“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”
She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.
“So. Did it hurt?”
“When I fell from heaven?”
“When you fell into my life.” 
He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.
But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.
His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope. 
"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."
She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."
She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.
“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”
“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”
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TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits
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stinalotte · 10 months
Text
Happy 19th Birthday, Stargate Atlantis!
On July 16th, 2004, the pilot aired. Here's a handy little primer for anyone who doesn't know what the heckity heck this show is about. Everything is totally accurate, 100% true and very, very serious.
So.
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This is the lost city of the Ancients, Atlantis, in the Pegasus galaxy, about 3 million light years from Earth. (The Ancients can go fuck themselves. Long story.) Atlantis is a city/spaceship approximately the size of Manhattan. She's semi-sentient, but not really, except actually yes, maybe, sometimes, totally. The whole city can go underwater or into hyperspace. Loves her humans. Home. Declaration of independence imminent.
The Atlantis expedition consists of civilians and military from at least 34 countries (in later seasons, the original expedition was just over a dozen). In no particular order:
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Dr. Elizabeth Weir. The first leader of the expedition. The only adult. Sometimes. Okay, not very often. Is not above a little war crime for the good of the galaxy—or at least, for the good of Atlantis. Left a boyfriend and a dog on Earth, but we all miss the dog more than the boyfriend. Eats UN representatives for breakfast. Is terribly awkward on dates and really good at solitaire. Loves her chaos children. Which are:
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Lt. Colonel Suicide Mission John Sheppard. Walked through the Gate and Atlantis said, "dibs". Thinks people who don't want to fly are crazy. Not good with emotional stuff. (He's getting better.) Loves his found space family and would die for them, often literally. Stop that. Also loves Ferris wheels, things that go fast, and Rodney McKay. And no, we don't know how he gets his hair to go like that.
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Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay. Four degrees, two of which are PhDs, none of which are in social skills. Smartest man in two galaxies. Used to be an asshole, but got himself some friends who loved him such a stupid amount that he had no choice but to change. Still a work in progress. We love to see it. Blew up three quarters five sixths of a solar system. (It was uninhabited.) (Mostly.) Deathly allergic to citrus. Loves fully charged ZPMs, arguing with Dr. Zelenka, MREs, and John Sheppard.
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Lieutenant Aiden Ford. Went ass first through the Gate with a grin and a whoop on his very first trip. One of the youngest members of the expedition. Is not allowed to name anything, ever. Mild case of hero worship when it comes to his commanding officer, which is totally understandable. A cautionary tale of how addiction messes up not only you, but the people around you.
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Ronon Dex. Used to be hunted by the Wraith, lost his people in a terrible war, and is now a member of Sheppard's team where he gets to shoot things and beat up bad guys. Doesn't talk much, but when he does, he has something to say. Good friend. Excellent hugs, but have Carson check you out for any cracked ribs after. Is one bottle of Athosian wine away from staging an intervention regarding the Sheppard/McKay situation.
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Teyla Emmagan. In possession of the team's one brain cell. Leader of the Athosian people. Will rock a baby to sleep and then go outside where a Wraith is dangling from the highest tower of the city and stomp on his hands until he falls 800 feet. Can either beat you up in the gym or force you to meditate on your problem, your choice. Has the aforementioned bottle of wine ready and loaded.
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Dr. Radek Zelenka. Keeps the science team sane because Rodney sure as hell doesn't. Loves pigeons, cursing in Czech, and overseeing the thriving black market underground economy that has developed in the city. (Thanks @shaddyr for that lovely headcanon). Zachránil všechny naše zadky víc než jednou.
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Chuck the Technician. Aggressively Canadian. Doesn't have a last name, doesn't need one. Is ALWAYS in the control room, seriously man, when do you sleep? Reads trashy sci fi novels on night shifts and organized a betting pool in 5 different currencies when Ronon was fighting Teal'c. Needs to share his eyelash routine because we're jealous.
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Dr. Carson Beckett. The most Scottish Scot to ever Scot. Brilliant medical doctor who is not above the occasional unethical unorthodox treatment method. Sweet cinnamon roll of a man. Beloved by all. Loves his mom and wee baby turtles. Someone should take him fishing soon. 🥹
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Colonel Samantha Carter. Member of SG-1. Legend. Awesome. Boss. Absolute BAMF. Punched a Goa'uld system lord in the face once. We all have a crush on her.
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Dr. Jennifer Keller. Is very doctor-y, for better and for worse. Was all of us when she freaked out being on an alien planet for the first time, like a normal person would. Should totally have gone on a date with Captain Vega in that one deleted scene. [WE COULD HAVE HAD IT AAAAALL]
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Jeannie Miller. Rodney's sister. Gave up a career in science to be a mom. Solved Rodney's math problem in her spare time, with finger paints. Loves her brother even when he's being an idiot. Fanfic canon says: her house is always open for him and certain Air Force Colonels to crash in. Don't you dare get a hotel room. Yes, the guest room has Only One Bed, Mer, what's your point?
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Major Evan Lorne. If you are a moron and get yourself captured and imprisoned off world, he will swing by real quick with a couple Marines and bust you out. Co-parents Atlantis with Dr. Weir. Is actually a really talented painter. Needs a raise, a holiday, and a drink.
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Colonel Steven Caldwell. Grumpy. Has to deal with Elizabeth's chaos children on a regular basis. Will make the enemy ship go away with a big boom and save your sorry ass in space. AGAIN.
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Richard Woolsey. Used to be a New York City lawyer, one of the most ruthless creatures in the universe. His wife got the Yorkie in the divorce. Broke his heart. Is actually pretty cool if you let him do his thing (like get you out of an intergalactic war crimes trial by bribing the judges).
I know some characters and all the villains are missing, but this post is already longer than a trip on the Daedalus, so there you have it.
Stargate Atlantis. A show about wormholes, life-sucking aliens, ancient civilisations, space battles—and family, friendship, allowing yourself to love and be loved, and what it means to be home.
Happy birthday, fam.
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Text
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second, never first
part eleven | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten |
PLEASE READ WARNINGS
chris x fem!reader
summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.
warnings - swearing, kissing, use of y/n, mention of family issues, mention of domestic violence (NOT BETWEEN THE MAIN COUPLE), BOYS (no smut… for now lol)
word count - 2k+
a/n: this part of the story contains a scene involving domestic violence so please dont read if that is a topic that triggers you! also this part is taking place 2 weeks since the last. also i made it a little lengthy for you all <333
NOT PROOFREAD
-
i was fast asleep when i heard a crash from downstairs over the show i have playing to fall asleep. instantly getting up i slipped on a robe and slowly walked to my steps.
growing up in the house hold i did meant i had to be in constant fight or flight. i stood at the top of my steps with my phone in hand. looking down at it, the time reading 12:34.
“you need to learn to keep your fucking mouth shut, i am threatening you and your daughter. ever try to leave me and i will have both pf your heads.” i heard my dad yell from downstairs, my mom sobbing. common occurrence from my house hold.
“mom” i say my voice cracking up as i walk down stairs. “y/n go the fuck upstairs now.” my dad screams standing over my mom as shes sitting on the floor with both hands on her cheek as if she was just punched and her throat red. i knew my parents argued all the time but i never saw them get violent.
“i will do it.” holding my phone up i type in 911.
“sweetie you know i would never be violent, your mom just needs to be talked to like a baby since she has double left brain cells.” he switches up his tone.
“now i wont repeat myself, go to your fucking room.” he growls.
tears pool in to my eyes as i turn around.
my vision gets clouded with tears as i make my way to my room. immediately breaking down once i get to my room. feeling scared in your own house is one thing but feeling unsafe is another. i cant trust either of my parents to keep me safe anymore.
turn on my phone i call the one person who i can trust with my life, chris.
ring ri-
“hey kid whats up.” he answers. i dont say anything as i am hyperventilating, crying and shakily breathing trying to calm myself down. “y/n?” i hear him say, “chris” is all i can reply and i am sobbing on the other line of the phone. “where are you?” chris asks in a concerned tone, “i- im home.”.
“whats wrong why are you calling?” he questions. “i cant- i cant be here.”.
“im on my way kid, give me a second here ok?”
“mhm” i reply.
he hangs up and i slowly take deep breaths. im not one to cry often but after school the other day ive been crying for 2 weeks straight it feels like. i dont know if chris would mind but i start frantically packing a bag with clothes and things i need for tomorrow morning. i cant be here in this house with them.
i knew in the back of my mind i shouldn’t leave my mom alone but i just couldn’t bear to hear any more crashes or slams now that i know things have gotten physical.
i sit on the floor in front of my door still sobbing as i just started and me and chris’ texts waiting for-
wednesday 12:57am
chris: here
waiting for that.
i open my window not caring to be quiet as i slip through it. sliding it shut and carefully climbing down the stairs of the treehouse my father built for me when i was a baby. probably the only thing ill ever be grateful for from him.
i wipe my eye and nose trying to compose myself while walking up to chris’ truck. opening the back door first and throwing my bag in to the back seat and then making my way to the passenger side. climbing up to the seat and buckling myself in. a few tears still streaming from my face.
“y/n what happened.” chris asks in a quiet tone. the question making everything flood back in to my head and i breakdown again. i bring my hands up to my face and cry into my hands. “it cant be that bad kid whats wrong.” he says with concern. “its worse.” i reply. “can we p- please go to your house. i- i cant be hear any longer.” i ask through choked sobs. “of course.” he puts the truck in drive.
the drive is quiet, the sound of my crying and heavy breathing being the only sound coming through the vehicle.
we get to his house and he immediately gets out and goes to grab my bag from the bag and then opening my door. i sniffle and smile at him thankfully.
once i enter his house its fully of joy. warm lighting and happiness filling the walls. i stand in the door way shivering as im in a big shirt and sleep shorts with sneakers on in the middle of winter. chris comes in after me with my bag over his shoulder and closing the door behind him and locking it. “cold?” he smiles and i nod rubbing my arms.
i look around his house for a minute, “cmon” he nods towards the stairs and we start walking up them to his room. we get to his room door. he walks over to his bed turning on the white led strip lights he has and walks back to the door. “hey go sit down kid ill be right back.” i nod in response and walk over to his bed. “hey y/n is gonna sleep here tonight.” i hear chris say, his voice is muffled slightly and i hear matt and nick ask “why?”.
“i dont know she just called me crying and she wont speak, i think something happened at her house.” he replies and walks back in.
going to his closet he grabs a hoodie and tosses it to me, “thank you.” i sniffle and smile putting the hoodie on immediately feeling warmer. he walks over to his bed crounching down in front of me.
“talk to me kid, what happened?” he asks softly, “was it your parents?” he adds. i close my eyes as streams of tears flow from them. my not answering was an answer for chris. he bows his head down shaking it and letting out a breath. “how bad was it?” he looks up at me.
“bad enough for my mom to be crying on the floor with a bloody nose and a bruised neck.” i reply and wipe nose. chris’ face fills with concern as i cry into my hands.
he takes my hands and removes them from my face starring at me with my runny nose and red eyes. i move to stand up and he does the same, “chris im sorry i shouldnt even be telling you th-“ i am paused with his arms coming around my head in to a hug. i melt into his touch burying my face into his chest and hooking my arms under his. i hold on to him for dear life and sob.
“im sorry.” i keep repeating as he hugs me. “stop it. none of what happened is your fault ok? your dad is a piece of shit stop apologizing.” he comforts as he gently rubs my back. the world goes quiet as i hold on to him, everything seemed to do that when i was with chris. i pull away still holding on to his arm “chris you have no idea how grateful i am for you.” i smile fiddling with his fingers. he smiles and kisses me, “shit sorry. bad timing, im awful.” he blurts as he immediately pulls away putting his hand up to his forehead. i wipe my nose again, “its ok. never apologize for that.”
our friendship as of now felt different. we are best friends that are fake dating but occasionally kiss when no ones around. i want to ask him what this means but im afraid it will ruin what we have. so i stay quiet as he leans into me again. i go on my tip toes and grab either side of his face into a long sweet kiss. pulling apart we both sit down on his bed and get under the sheets inches apart.
both of us laying face up but chris is on his phone.
thinking about my night i wonder what i would do without chris. having him as my best friend was the biggest blessing i could have asked for. even though i was enduring the roughest two weeks of my life chris always managed to to make my rocky world a still calm path.
as i think about him i instinctually move closer to him wrapping both of my arms around him. “whats this for?” he asks looking down and me and raising him arm for me to come in, as i can hear him smiling in his voice.
“i just am in l-, i just love you so much you are the only thing that helps me constantly.” i correct myself. he chuckles and shuts his phone off grabbing his tv remote. turning on a show on a low volume and shutting off his leds.
with his free hand he slips it under his hoodie thats on me and lightly starts scratching my back. i hum at the feeling closing my eyes. “that feel good?” he says in a quiet voice. “mhm” reply lightly nodding my head thats buried in his shoulder now. the low hum of of the show playing, my comfortable position cuddling with chris, plus my exhaustion and his hand scratching me made my tired eyes even more intense.
i fall asleep happier than i was an hour ago and its all thanks to chris.
chris pov
the feeling of her breathing against my side is more calming than anything i could describe. her fragile body is fast asleep on me with her leg over mine and her arms around my neck as i continue to lightly draw shapes on her back.
i cant believe what she endured tonight let alone it being a normal occurrence for her parents to argue. she told me about them fighting before and she always said it got intense but i have never seen her this emotional. i feel happy knowing that she can trust me in such a vulnerable state.
she hums in her sleep nuzzing her head impossibly closer to me and i just admire her as she does so. i just wish our current situation could be more than it is but bringing that up would change everything and commitment to another person is like holding a new born. you have someones full trust and life in your hands never knowing if their going to fall out.
ill take what i can get as we are closer than we have ever been tonight. watching her sleep is the most beautiful thing ive ever come across.
her dark hair lays out on her back as i can smell her vanilla scented shampoo that she told me was way to expensive for what she would normally pay. my hoodie that fit her in the most adorable oversized way. her sleep shorts that are peeking out from the covers that slightly show her skin. and her cold finger tips against my neck, the feeling of them almost lulling me to sleep.
i continue to scratch her back even though she is already asleep and kiss the top of her head which i wouldn’t have the courage to do if she was awake.
“im so in love with you kid, i just have fear of making that real. it would ruin everything. i just wish you were awake for me to tell you, but it would be selfish to take you as mine you have so much love to give.” i mumble whispered against her head just seconds before i fell asleep
-
thanks for reading xx
taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @jennss23 @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn
a/n: pls send thoughts in the comments. also i know this is a heavy topic to cover so my dms are open if anyone needs to talk. love you all🩷🩷
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yaut-jaknowit · 2 months
Note
How about a human womans gets pregnant with a yautja (They are probably in a lab). The male escapes and takes her back to his clan and hands her off to the females of the clan. And instead of falling in love with the male, the sire of the unborn pup. the human womans gets together with another female who is teaching the ways of the yautja. Maybe the male stops by here n there...
Lose Yourself
Pairings: Male Yautja x AFAB!Reader (Platonic)
Word Count: 4039
Summary: Four concrete walls have been your sight for the last year. Caregivers and doctors see you every day to ensure your heath. Then three months ago, they introduced you to him. A creature not from this world that you can tell. He does not speak but the two of you have an understanding and one another.
Author Note: When this popped up in my feed, I started to bounce off of the walls like a crazed animal. I love this idea so much. In the future, I would love to write out a whole story like this. For now, I'm just going to do at least two parts, maybe three for this.
Part 2
Masterlist
Ao3
Blaring sirens jolt you back into reality. Your heart instantly leaps into your throat and lodges itself there. The whites of your eyes clear even in the limited light of the dingy cell you dared to call home.
Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around your knees and carefully watched the only entrance and exit to this singular, minute room. The alarm meant something. Terrible things. Nothing ever good came from it. Your head was plastered to the tops of your knees as you observed for any incoming threat.
This wasn’t a horrible life. Three meals a day; seen by doctors – or at least what looked to be doctors – practically every day; clothing on your body. But the fact you weren’t allowed to leave the room unless they wanted you or you didn’t have anything to stimulate your brain. Just an animal on the verge of insanity, forced to be driven there with no relief.
The people who keep you locked in here are the only people you are able to interact with. It’s one sided. You lost your will to try and gain any words besides the casual ‘how are you feeling today?’ from them. They might mix it up after some time but it was always the same doctor-patient relationship.
Out of everything here though, what caught your attention was the thing they brought you to a few times before. Everything about him is locked down and sealed tight from both sides. Not even a name from the lumbering giant.
From the limited times you’ve got to interact with him, you’ve learned he wasn’t a nice character. At first, he had nearly torn you apart before he had jerked to a stop. Akin to a horrified look passed over his alien features and he backed away. After that day, he’s been reasonable to be around. For some reason, your ‘caregivers’ love to know how you interact with him or what he’ll do if… you were some sort of danger.
Not the most protective creature, he’ll snarl and growl if the guards are too rough with you. His chains prevent him from doing anything physical. Once you are completely alone with him though, the chains that keep him locked to the wall are slackened. He’s now allowed to move about the vicinity as he seems fit.
Move he does. He stalks, prowls around the room, searching for any way for escape. They way he moves gives you the hint he’s this predator, like a lion hunting its prey. When you watch him, you admire him and prowess.
Wishful thinking makes you pray for him to find a weakness and escape from this horrid place. The chains on his wrists are more than tight. It’s daily occurrence blood drips from cuts. He tries to hide it, obscure it from sight but the eyes are the window to the soul. You are able to read his pain, every wince when the chains rub just a hair too much. You worry about him, this creature that was no human.
The first time he allowed you to touch him was a miracle. When the session was over, you were immediately yanked from the premises and shoved into a different room. Your caregivers began to berate and demand answers on why he was allowing you such contact. As the clueless person you are, you just shrugged your shoulders.
That night, they left you with a few more bruises than usual.
The door swung open and revealed a guard and a caregiver. Same protocols as always. You were taken from your room and swiftly led further down to what you believed to be the lowest level of this complex. The entire way there, you were compliant and willing. You’ve done your fair share of fighting, everything in your power to leave this place.
But it never worked. It wasn’t truly accepting your fate but going along the motions. Your mind has long grown numb, completely stale to everything. It needed stimulation but no one offered that.
A quick shove had you toppling onto your hands and knees. A loud snarl and rattling chains, metal creaking from tremendous amount of weight thrown against echoed in the limited space. You hissed at the new wounds on your knees and whipped your head up.
Though weakened from lack of food and proper exercise, the alien was straining against the shortened chains. His blazing eyes were on you, taking in everything your caregivers did to you.
With a click, the thick steel door latched shut and trapped you in here with him. You sighed and stood back up while taking a glance behind you. The only entrance to the room sealed off until they choose to retrieve you. Until then, you calmly walked over to the ashen, grey alien and sat down close by. A respectful amount of space placed between the two of you.
Two more clicks entered the air. The chains that once locked him to the wall slackened and allowed the predator free range.
He instantly stalked over to you and knelt down. You picked up your head to find his eyes still on your sitting form. His gaze flicked down to your scrapped knees.
Those strange mandibles of his, or fangs could be a better word, didn’t offer any lips to form words. Not English at least. He seems to speak in his own but neither of you could truly understand one another in words. Instead, gestures got you farther in this strange friendship you’ve created with him. He was the only being in this forsaken place to offer niceties.
You reached to the fresh wound. Blood already dotted the scrapped skin. Nothing that cried for a bandage. Not that you would get in the end. “It’s alright,” you reassured him and threw a thumbs up at him. A sign he’s learned meant everything was fine.
He hovered still and stayed sat on his haunches at your side. A little unusual for the predator always on the move. When he was with you, ninety percent of the time he is prowling the given space and observing the door. You didn’t need to be told he was searching for his escape.
One animal, spirit lost to the solidarity. 
Another animal, always moving, always searching.
It didn’t take further than five more seconds for your gaze to drop and head to lean against the cool wall. It was colder in this room than even the halls that lead to here. You’ve pondered the reasons but have never come up with something concrete.
Warmth cupped your cheek and tilted your head back up to the only figure in this room. Your jaw dropped at the touch, eyes widening while you could only stare at the alien.
Once he found your eyes, he leaned in, diverted slightly to the side, and placed his alien mouth next to your ear. “I will get us out of here,” he whispered barely a fraction over his breath. You gasped in reaction, ready to spew questions when his thumb pressed against your lips. The words died in your throat before they could become sound.
Then, he nuzzled his mandibles to the crook of your neck and pulled back. The whole interaction had you puzzled but slightly scared shitless. Thise sharp fangs so close to your throat, knowing they could rip it out if he wanted. But instead, he promised your escape.
Escape.
It was like he offered you a sack of gold as a peasant.
“Please,” you murmured back and against the pad of his thumb. He grunted then stood up. The chains rattled at the movement and clacked against the ground. You saw the way his hands twitched at his sides when the sharp edge dug into his already sore flesh. Thick, raised scars would be left in its wake. That, you were sure of.
The alien moved away from you and began his pacing. It was the same pathing he always took. He looked high and low. You stayed there on the ground despite it hurting your lower back and watched him. As he moved, the hope that bubbled inside of your chest began to dwindle. Maybe he didn’t have a plan just yet or even the start of one.
You missed the feeling of the sun on your skin, the smell of fresh air. Freedom. That’s the base core you craved the most while in the pits of this place. You had no plans for escape. It didn’t look like he did either.
A hand ran through your knotted locks and started to work out the small rats' nests growing. He had spoken to you. Spoke English. After all the times you’ve been in contact with him, he finally speaks up and says that. But why did he say it so quietly?
Your eyes darted around the room, hiding behind your lashes. Four cameras. They left no space unseen. Did he not want anyone to know he could speak your language? I huffed and drew your knees while resting your chin on them.
Another click drew you from well of your thoughts. A sound you’ve heard before. The chains began to sucked back into the wall and dragged the struggling alien back to his original place. You watched with a sorrowful gaze, knowing every pull cut deeper into his forever bleeding cuts.
Before he could officially trapped back to the wall, he lunged at you and trapped your now quiver form to him. His body was a few degrees warmer than the room itself. The textured scales that covered him from head to toe rubbed against your back. You gave a yelp and struggled at first but stopped, hoping he wouldn’t harm you after all this time.
The first time you met flashing in your mind. What had stopped him?
His grasp on you wasn’t harsh or demanding, but firm, not allowing you slip away from him. The claws that tipped his fingers looked they could gut you like a fish. Yet, he ensured they didn’t dig into your skin.
The chains stopped once he was pulled to the wall but with you still in grasp. The door was ripped open and in poured seven heavily armed soldiers, guns directed at the two of you. You screamed and tucked into his chest and seek protection from the only friendly figure here. His arms tightened around in a secure manner. A deep rumbled beginning to grow from the depths of his chest.
In walked the main caregiver for you and him. You submissively bowed your head, afraid to look her in the eye and feel her wrath; or be knocked out and wake up in pain again.
The woman wearing a white coat looked down her nose at your meek form then gazed up at the predator trapping you. “You won’t hurt her,” she stated with a voice honeyed and sweet. How could she be so sure of something unknown? Even you didn’t know what his intentions were.
Warm, callused finger ensnared your throat. Your heart jumping and thumping against the digits holding your life. A whimper breaking free of your cracked, cry lips. The arm still wrapped around your torso  tightened but the hand rubbed the area behind your back. You inhaled sharply and slackened in his hold.
She marched forward and only left a space between her and you that dared him to take the lunge. “It’s against your honor code, isn’t it?” Your brows furrowed at the new information, unsure of what this ‘honor code’ entailed but hoped it truly meant he won’t kill you.
He growled and sent vibrations up your spine. Goosebumps were left in its wake. You shuttered and pressed yourself more into him.
Harsh, vile clicks and snarls sounded from his alien throat as he spat alien words at the doctor. An unamused gaze fell on her face while the grey creature said his piece.
When the sounds ceased and he breathed heavily, she used a finger to wipe spit off of her face and flicked back at him. “Are you done?” she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Your kind is so predictable. Quick to surge with rage and believe themselves to be high and mighty. Not for much longer.” You wanted to somehow shrink even more against him but there was not even a molecule of space to take up.
“Now, hand over the subject and we’ll still feed you tonight. And if you don’t… well, that’s for me know and you to find out.” You shuttered at her words, hand finding his arm and squeezing it. He returned the action with his arm still wrapped around your torso.
An action she saw. Her posture sagged then she spun around and walked behind the seven soldiers. They were used as a wall of protection.
“Retrieve the subject. Don’t kill either of them. Harm is okay,” she gave the order you knew was about to occur. Your eyes instinctively shut as you prepare for bullets to begin flying.
A deafening roar rattled your brain. Metal snapped. The heat you were once pressed against was gone. The pure instinct to search it out strong before your brain could register the scene unfolding in front of your trembling form. Your feet glued to the spot.
Even though he’s lost some of his muscular physique, this lethal giant showed off his strength and prowess. He had already thrown one of the soldiers into a wall, a dent left in its wake. Another was meeting the business end of this predator… and loosing not only the fight but their life as well.
Blood sprayed across the ground in a terrifying arch. The ruby red a sight you weren’t prepared to see. His claws causing the damage to be dealt and valuable life essence to be spilled at your feet. The same claws that had been wrapped around neck so softly moments before.
Bright pops of light and ear-bleeding claps left you dizzy in where you stood. You stumbled back and rested your shoulder against the cool concrete wall. The scene before you continuing to unfold as if you didn’t even exist.
It swiftly became a blood bath. The seven soldiers she brought into here were desecration into nothing more than piles of shredded meat and bleeding blood bags on the ground.
The horror that morphed over her usually neutral face was satisfying to say in the least. The fact she wasn’t going to be able to step out of this room dawned upon her. You watched as the color drained from her face with each step backwards.
Unlike you, she was trapped and at the will of the alien that bore his gaze down on her. You may be pressed against the wall like her, but you were safe, not afraid of him spinning around and mistaking you as one of them. You knew it in your heart he was following through with his promise. You’ll see the light of day again, breathe the fresh air of the day. Strangely enough, you felt giddy.
“You can’t do this! I’m unarmed!” she screamed at him and pointed a trembling finger at the grey alien. What’s with that? Does it have to do with this ‘honor code’ she spoke about before?
Oh, but he could. In a terrifying millisecond, your eyes couldn’t register what had truly happened. Her body laid motionless at the feet of the lumbering alien. Her back faced you, her head was turned towards you. The cold, lifeless blue eyes of hers stared blankly, unfocused.
Dead.
You released a shuttering breath and timidly looked at him. Said creature stood back to his full height and rolled his dense shoulders. The muscles that lined his shoulders and back rippling at the motion.
Then, the alien spun on his heel and marched over to you. For a scared shitless moment, you best believed you were about to receive the same treatment. What stopped him from doing so?
He came to a stop before you and offered you a hand. “We are getting out.” Words of English were rumbled at you. Your eyes flicked down to the open palm. The freedom you begged for since the day you arrived here was standing before you. Not in a form you were expecting.
You took his hand.
One moment, the ground was touching the bottom of your feet. The very next, your legs had to wrap around a wide frame, arms snug around his throat. His back to your chest. He patted your forearm. “Hold on tight. Do not let go,” he ordered then marched towards the door.
It was closed, still sealed. What was he going to do about that?
That had to a be stupid thought after watching him massacre the entire room. Clearly he had an idea, some plan to get you two out of here. As much as you hated to this, it gutted you, you trusted him fully to release you from this prison.
Carefully, he crouched down and grabbed a key card from a pocket of the doctor. Red from his hands smeared onto the thin piece of plastic. He held it up to a small area next to the door.
With a whoosh, the door opened. The moment it did. All the white lights suddenly flashed to red. A horrifying screech entered the air before going into a low pitch then back up. It continued to do this while he carried him and you into the hall.
His head whipped side to side, thoughts determining which way to go. You perked up at this and motioned for him to go left. “The stairs are next to the elevator,” you reasoned with him. He grunted and began to full on sprint in the given direction. This hundreds of pound of flesh barreled down the hallway like a semi-truck. Nothing could stop him unless he wanted to stop.
A ninety degree came up. The alien just slid and used an arm to keep himself from slamming into the wall. He continued on. You buried your face into his neck, ignoring the strange rubbery dreads that slapped against your head and face with each of his steps.
The hallway led him to the necessary door. He didn’t even try the handle when he full on kicked it down. The metal screeched as it was torn from the hinges and laid to rest at the bottom of the stairs. With that out of the way, he leaped easily over it and took three steps at a time.
The alarm still blared its horrible tune and forced a headache to pound inside of your skull. You whined and scrunched your nose, unable to relieve yourself of the noise.
Over the noise, you heard the tall tell sign of thundering footsteps. You tensed up, breath shuddering and catching in your throat. In reaction, you go to open your mouth and speak of the discovery. A single finger was held up in your line of sight. You closed your trap and hunkered back down.
He launched himself up a flight of stairs and crashed into something hard. Gunfire sounded less than ten feet away. A bullet never hits you as he powered through a sea of bodies. You kept yourself locked onto his back like a monkey for dear life. You don’t know if he would come back for you if you were to fall off. Or if a soldier may just kill you to solve half of their problems.
Warm, slightly substance latched onto your arms. You shuttered, already coming to the conclusion of what it is.
Dying, horrified screams echoed off the halls. They decreased in amount and volume until the last one was silenced.
A new quiet filled the air besides the heavy breathing from the beast you clung to. Ringing echoed inside of your ears and worsened your headache. You groaned and clenched your hands into a tight fist.
He moved on.
You were brought back to reality as the warmth tinglingly the back of your neck and arms. Confused, you picked up your head and opened your eyes.
Bright light first had you flinching but powering through the pain. Sunlight greeted you. Its light painful at first but warmth more than welcomed. Your jaw dropped at the sight now before you.
A vessel… No. A space craft. A UFO. And it had to be his.
The alien didn’t stop moving across the short field that took him less than ten seconds to clear reach the feet of the ship. He slammed his fist against the belly of it. A screeching hiss entered the air.
A slab of metal began to peel itself away from the belly of the craft and angle one end towards the ground. The sight something you would see from Star Wars. You could only watch in amazement as the alien marched up the ramp. He rushed his way through the insides and took expert turns until he reached the cockpit. His feet skidded to a stop at a console and hands flying across the panels.
You pulled yourself up higher and watched. He pressed buttons and started the engines.
They rumbled to life under his feet. The ship waking up from an unknown amount of rest.
Hanging off of his back, you spotted movement through the glass window before you. A hoard of soldiers poured from the facility you had broken out of. A cold sweat dripped down the length of your spine at the sight. You tapped rapidly on his shoulder to gain his attention. “We’ve got company,” you warned, voice wavering.
The creature scoffed and turned his head enough to meet your eyes. “Not for long,” he answered. A smirk that you didn’t need to see was evident in his voice. He reached over and grabbed a throttle. Pressure was added to the stick.
Power was fed into the engines. Their sounds gaining in volume. You felt it before you noticed the fact the craft was starting to lift off the ground. The people rushing towards the two of you doubled their efforts as they began to grow smaller.
Something hit the roof and prevented the vessel from gaining anymore height. The creature just scoffed and added extra power to the engines.
Metal groaned and gave way. The ship returned to its form ascent into the sky. You release a sob of relief while the two of you continued to climb into the sky. The prison left behind as everyone could only watch your escape.
Once blue skies transitioned to black and sparkles shining through, he released the tension in his shoulders then patted your forearm. “You can get down now,” he said and knelt down. The warm metal floor touching the bottom of your bare feet. You finally relented your hold on him and stretched out your muscles. Soreness sunk into your muscles after clinging to him for so long.
He turned around to look at you fully. The two of you taking the other in without the constant pressure of being under watch and locked into a room.
A smile broke across your dirtied features. It was slow, a small dribble of happiness filling your veins before it became a rush. You pumped your fists into the air and gave a lungful cheer that echoed back at you. Damn that headache, you could care less about it when freedom was returned to you at last.
Close to the end of your excitement, an ear-piercing roar sounded with your call. You stopped abruptly and looked at the alien. His head was tipped back, fangs fully widened. You let the smile return and gave a hearty call again. You deserved it after all the shit you’ve endured while at the prison.
The roar died off. You cut yours as well and returned to studying him again. Despite not knowing who or what he was, you could trust him completely. He had fought off the advances of the soldiers and kept you safe. It was impossible in the moment to wipe off the smile on your face. You didn’t even dare to try and knew it would be futile.
Freedom at last.
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zepskies · 6 months
Text
Code Red
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Pairing: Boaz Priestly x Female Reader
Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.
AN: So I didn’t think I’d ever write for this character, but it was prompted by a lovely anon and encouraged by my friend @thatonewriter15! I hope you enjoy. ❤️ 
Song Inspo: “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. “I’ve found a love…”
Word Count: 1,500 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, suggestiveness, mega fluff
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He was in the zone.
Four six-inch double buffalo chicken clubs with banana peppers on whole wheat bread (gross, but he wasn’t the one eating ‘em), two spicy Italians, and a tuna on rye.
Priestly wrapped them up with practiced precision and slid them down the line to Piper, Mission Impossible-style. She smiled at his antics and took them and brought them over to Tish at the register.
Priestly had another turkey and provolone on his docket, hold the mayo, when his cell buzzed in his pocket. Today he actually did have pockets. As in, he was wearing joggers, boots, and a graphic tee that said: NO TEQUILA, NO ENTRY.
He swiveled his phone in his hand like a drummer with a drumstick. He smiled when he saw your name flashing across the screen, and he answered it.
“Hey, Beautiful. What’s up?” he asked.
“Boaz, I need you,” you said. To his ears, your voice was sultry, and a bit strained.
He perked up with raised eyebrows.
“What’s holding up the turkey and cheese?” Piper asked.
Boaz held up a finger to the blonde and tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. His hands busied themselves with the next sandwich order, but he was all too attentive to your every word.
“Oh yeah?” he replied to you. His smile deepened. “Well, that’s convenient. Because I’m craving some of you, baby.”
You gave a breathy chuckle. “Normally I’d take you up on that, but no. I need you. As in, I really need you to do something for me.”
Priestly arched a brow. His brain was already filling up with ideas of how he could best help you. He mentally took an inventory of the “tools” in your nightstand drawer, and which ones he could best use to his advantage when he—
“Uhh, well, I got about one more hour in my shift,” he said, lowering his voice, even as it deepened a notch. “But if Jen covers me, I can be outta here in half the time.”
“Oh my God, good,” you gasped. “I’m in so much fucking pain, you have no idea.” 
Priestly blinked, and any thoughts of kinky fun times came to a screeching halt. Concern took over when he realized that the strain in your voice wasn’t from the sexy kind of need.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.
“I’m out of Midol, my uterus is rioting like it’s a Vietnam War protest, and…oh yeah, I need more tampons too,” you said. “But I legitimately cannot move from this couch.”
Priestly couldn’t help but smile in amusement.
“Ech, I hear ya. Are we in a Code Green, Code Yellow, or Code Red situation?”
Jen glanced over at him from where she was mopping the floor, and she gave him a questioning look.
What’s wrong? she mouthed.
“Code Red, definitely,” you answered with a sigh.
Priestly grimaced in sympathy. He mouthed back to Jen, Code Red.
She nodded in female understanding, and raised a hand that said, Say no more.
“Okay, yeah,” Priestly replied to you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”
You released a sigh of relief. “And if you want to throw in a Snickers, I wouldn’t hate it.”
He chuckled at that one.
“You got it,” he said. “I’ll be home in T minus an hour, give or take.”
You groaned. “Can’t you just steal a DeLorean or something?”
“You know, I could, but that would mean I’d be going back further into the past before you even needed to call me, and I’d still probably be making sandwiches since I’ve been working here since damn near 2000 B.C. But you know what, they should really call that movie Back to the Present, since they don’t actually go to the future until—”
“Okay,” you had to laugh, even though it was edged with discomfort. “I’ll see you later.”
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At the supermarket, after his shift at Beach City Grill, Priestly had most of the supplies he needed for a successful mission. All he was missing was his old enemy on Aisle 2.
Once again, he faced a wall of tampons. All bright colored boxes and numbers and sizes…
Okay, not Code Green, so not the slender ones that might as well be match sticks. Not Yellow, so no to Regular…ah! Here we are. Super Plus.
AKA: Code Red. Complete with leak guard, no latex. He grabbed the blue box and threw it into his basket of essentials, including no less than three assorted chocolate bars and a pint of Ben & Jerrys. He knew his girl, and you liked your Half-Baked ice cream with chocolate chip cookie dough and brownie pieces.  
He brought over his haul to the checkout line. Sure enough, Gerry, one of the locals, was finally old enough to buy a case of beer by himself. He glanced at the blue box Priestly was taking out onto the conveyor belt and smirked.
“No slender regulars this time?” Gerry remarked.
Priestly’s smile was tight. “No, Gerald. Slenders are for pussies.”
“Literally,” the blonde beanpole snorted. “What, your girlfriend got a heavy flow this month?”
Priestly rolled his eyes, and his mouth pressed in a line. The word flow still kind of grated on him like nails on a chalkboard, but what irked him more was this guy imagining any part of your intimate parts.
“All right, my girl’s flow is none of your business,” he said. “Once you hit puberty and grow your first pubes, you’ll understand.”
Gerry floundered while Priestly continued on to make his purchases. Even the cashier was smiling, trying not to laugh as he silently gave Priestly his props for a burn well made. Priestly shot the guy a nod and a smile before he left with his spoils.
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“Honey, I’m hoooome,” Priestly sing-songed.
He stepped through the door with his keys still jangling in his hand. He was trying to balance the big bag of groceries while closing the door to the apartment he shared with you.
Your head perked up from the living room couch, and your hand slowly curled up, beckoning him over. Priestly obliged you. He peered over the side of the couch and smiled at the way you were all curled up under a throw blanket, already in your pajamas, while FRIENDS reruns played on the TV.
“Finally,” you said with a tired smile. But not the kind of finally that just meant you were impatient for the goods he carried. The kind of finally that also meant you were happy to see him.
He laid a comforting hand on your head, leaned down, and pressed a kiss above your brow. You held him there by the collar of his shirt, prompting him to kiss you for real. Your hand moved up his tattooed neck and your nails gave the back of his head a little scratch, careful not to disrupt the blue mohawk.
He reluctantly pulled away from your lips, just enough to try and gauge how you were feeling.
“How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked.
“Like a beach umbrella in a hurricane,” you replied wryly. “You got the stuff?”
Priestly held the grocery bag tucked under his arm like it was a drug deal.
“Oh, I got the stuff, if you got the money,” he said.
You nodded, and your small smile turned mischievous. “I got your money, Big Man.”
With your hand delicately hooked behind his neck and the other gliding up his arm, he didn’t realize he was falling into a trap.
You tugged his arm hard enough to try and get him to fall over the back of the couch.
“Hey!” he yelped. Yet he also laughed while you tried your best to pull him overboard.
He had to toss the bag of groceries to the floor next to you, but he managed to get over and onto the couch without crushing you. He probably smelled like old sandwich and mayonnaise, but you didn’t seem to care. 
You just helped him settle in behind you, with your back to his chest. This was the only way you’d find comfort for your lower back. It had been aching since you woke up this morning.
You grabbed his closest hand and guided it under your overlarge sleep shirt, then under the waistband of your panties. You laid his warm hand flat against your cramping lower belly.
Priestly pressed a kiss behind your ear and tucked his arm underneath your head. He felt the rise and fall of your sigh as you leaned back against him, and his smile softened.
“You’re gonna fall asleep without digging into your treasure trove,” he teased. “I even got your favorite ice cream.”
You glanced at him over your shoulder in interest.
“Half-Baked?” you asked.
“Yep, for extra brownie points. Eh? See what I did there?”
Your body shook with a quiet laugh. You reached your hand back to touch his bearded cheek this time. Your fingers toyed with his many earrings.
“Did you know that you’re my favorite human?” you said. “Like, ever?”
He smiled against your neck. “Could’a sworn I was your third favorite, behind Ben and Jerry.”
“Nope, just you,” you said, snuggling back further into his warmth. “Thank you, baby.”
Priestly realized then that he’d found it.
He’d really, honest to God found the life he didn’t think he’d get, with a woman who didn’t want him to change; who just wanted him to be here.
Though he smirked when you reached for the bag and dug out the pint of Ben & Jerry’s.
“That’s what I thought,” he said.
You giggled. “Shut up.”
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AN: Priestly was such a fun character lol. I rewatched 10 Inch Hero this past week and this was the first thing I thought to write! If you liked this, let me know! (And if you want more Priestly.) 😘
Read the Prequel!
If you liked Code Red, read the start of their story:
▶️ The Miracle Man
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soapskneebrace · 3 months
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i have this fascination with price. hes sort of this unsulliable steel, consistently to nearly always making the (as the games frame it) correct decisions, even when hes playing fast and loose with the law. his plans always work, hes never truly failed in the sense of real negative consequences for a choice (until 3 but 3 was badly written and i did not like it). hes always (in the game's framing) right. he never shows a moment of weakness. i love him ❤ i want to see him suffer i want him to make an objectively wrong choice. i want that choice to have consequences that shake his steady foundations and rock him to his core. i want him to fail. is that weird? i want him to lose control of his carefully maintained stony exterior. i want to see that side of him that is barely acknowledged to be genuinely explored. i know people justify it by saying hes a military captain in a ridiculously tough branch to get into, so of course hes like that, but in real life those guys are just as human as the rest of us, just as capable of mistakes and taking fat Ls and making poor decisions. I do love his character, he is my blorbo, i just want to put him in a jar and shake him real hard. is that weird?
Deadass, when I heard what happens in mw3 (still haven't gotten around to watching it, I'm fond of my brain cells and I feel like it'll kill some of them)--my first thought was that they should've killed Price.
Price is always barely restraining himself but he manages to keep himself in check for the most part. I imagine he's learned the hard way that if he lets his feelings dictate his actions then a lot of people get hurt.
Gaz and Soap, however, do not have the benefit of his experience. Ghost does, but he doesn't wield authority like Price's, and I have the feeling that he believes the Price keeps him in check (in his origin comics, he has frequent nightmares in which he assaults and murders people, because he went through months of classical conditioning in captivity).
So, let's say Mak shoots Price dead instead. Suddenly there's no one there to guide the surviving 141. Suddenly the wealth of experience he had to offer, the instincts for warfare that he honed over decades, is gone. Gaz loses his mentor. Ghost loses the man who holds his leash. Soap loses the one commanding officer he had any faith in.
Can you feel how that would raise the stakes exponentially? Price's influence, throughout the reboot, has kept everyone in line. He knows how to break the rules effectively while minimizing the consequences. He knows how to ignore distractions. He is ruthlessly efficient, without being brutal. The other three just do not have those skills. They are not capable of doing what Price does. They have neither the experience (in Gaz and Soap's case) nor the disposition (in Ghost's case).
Price dying would send shockwaves through the 141--through the entire cast--in ways that Soap's death just does not. Soap should have been the one in Shepherd's office with a silenced gun, because assassinating a FUCKING FOUR STAR AMERICAN GENERAL IN THE PENTAGON!!!!! Is not what an experienced captain in the SAS would do, no matter how he feels!!!!!! That is what a sergeant with more aptitude than sense and an overwhelming feeling of rage and loss would do!!!!!!
Aaaaand this is a rant nearly completely unrelated to what you were talking about lol. Sorry. I do want to see that old man suffer don't get me wrong. It's just that the suffering he's been set up for now, in canon, is SO MUCH BULLSHIT.
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