#also realized after making this that they also both had/have government jobs

[paperback-peasant]

I started watching KOllOK 1991 the other day and I can't believe it...

#kollok 1991 #kollok 1991 s1 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #kollok justin #bud cubby #also realized after making this that they also both had/have government jobs

[incognit0slut]

MASTER OF PERSUASION

Part 4 of kinktober | main masterlist

meandom!Spencer/Hotch x fem!reader; Threesome, creampie, dumbification, degradation, brat taming, abuse of power, edging, dubcon

Your involvement in a heinous crime was questioned by the two FBI agents who were eager to do anything to get you to talk.

Words: 6802

a/n: This one is dedicated to my nasty, touch-starved btches who secretly wants to be manhandled by two older men. Enjoy this pure filth🫶

YOU WERE FAR FROM BEING A GOOD PERSON. From the surface, you seemed like a normal, typical woman, just one of the countless faces within the crowd. But when the doors shut behind you, you find yourself involved in endeavors you should never have pursued in the first place.

You knew too much. You were acutely aware of how many crimes happening in your vicinity. The number of deaths resulting from these heinous acts should be enough to terrify you, but it didn't, because unbeknownst to your peers, you were one of the reasons why they happened.

Although you never played the role of the perpetrator, you were the person these criminals came to for information. You were good with technology, you could hack into any secure system in the blink of an eye. It was almost as if you were a deity of the dark web, a mastermind whose mere presence served as a godsend to those carrying out these crimes.

It was easy money; you gave what they wanted, received what they paid you, and most importantly, you made sure to never look back. You always wiped everything out after each job was done, but somehow, after working on so many deals, your luck finally struck out.

Somebody hacked into your system—no, somebody good hacked into your system. This person knew what they were doing. They managed to hack through your firewall and retrieve a few of your data while also discovering your identity.

You honestly wanted to praise whoever was on the other side because you had never encountered someone who could match, if not surpass, your own skill. But it wasn't until you heard the loud banging on your front door, followed by people in uniformed vests rushing in and pointing their guns at you, that you finally realized who had breached your system.

It was the FBI.

So that was how you found yourself sitting inside an interrogation room hours later with two agents across from you. A very tall, intimidating man stood at the corner, his arms crossed as he watched you silently. Dr. Spencer Reid was how he introduced himself, and the way he emphasized the title in front of his name, you were certain he was the type of person who took extreme pride in his intelligence.

He seemed a little too cocky.

Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, on the other hand, was hard to decipher. The older man appeared somewhat guarded as if his job had forced him to put on a facade devoid of genuine emotions. Maybe it did. He was, after all, a federal agent. Both of them were. These men were probably taught to master the art of maintaining an inscrutable poker face.

Nevertheless, they were both intimidating, and you wondered to yourself, was good cop bad cop not a thing anymore? Because as far as this was going, none of them seemed inclined to make things easy for you.

The man in front of you cleared his throat, his voice was a well-practiced blend of authority and curiosity. "You've been quite elusive, haven't you, Miss Y/L/N?"

You leaned back, studying him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers tracing the edges of the table with a cool, almost casual detachment. "Elusiveness is a matter of perspective, Agent Hotchner. I prefer to think of it as adaptability."

"Adaptability?" He leaned in closer, his sharp gaze never wavering. "You've made quite a name for yourself. You've infiltrated government agencies, stolen classified data, and even orchestrated financial heists... Impressive, I must say."

A faint smile danced upon your lips, revealing just a glimmer of amusement. "I simply explore the hidden avenues of the World Wide Web. It's not about the thrill; it's about the knowledge."

His eyes narrowed. "But your actions have consequences. You've caused quite a chaos, don't you think?"

"Consequences are a part of every action, whether in the digital realm or the physical world. As for chaos..." You met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Well, sometimes chaos is necessary for evolution."

He leaned back, his expression unyielding. "Evolution or anarchy?"

"As I said, everything is a matter of perspective, even anarchy," you replied, your voice smooth as silk. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm just a catalyst. Society's flaws were there long before I came along."

The man in the corner took a step forward. His eyes bore into you with resolve as if he had grown weary of the ongoing debate. "You've had your say," he interjected with a steely tone. "You know why you're here. Our victim's files were found on your computer, we need to know who requested them."

You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, unfazed by his direct approach. "Doctor Reid," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mock surprise. "Always chasing ghosts in the machine, aren't you?"

His expression remained composed, his intellect undeniably sharp. "We're not here to discuss my pursuits. We're here to talk about the life you've disrupted."

"Disrupted? I'd say I've merely revealed the cracks in the system. Your victim, as you call them, was a casualty of a much larger game."

"Games have rules, Miss Y/L/N. You seem to operate outside of them."

"Rules are made to be broken, Spencer," you retorted, your tone cutting like a blade through the air. "I can call you that, right? I hate having to speak with such formalities."

"It's Doctor Reid," he corrected. "Tell us who you're working for."

His unwavering determination was met with a subtle, knowing smile from you. You leaned forward, your eyes locking onto his with a hint of intrigue.

"I don't know, Spencer," you began, your tone slightly softer, as if you were letting him in on a secret, "The digital world is a labyrinth of information. Files come and go, they disappear and reappear... It's like trying to catch a shadow in the dark. It's useless."

He addressed you with a cold stare. "You're playing a dangerous game here."

You raised an eyebrow, your voice honeyed with allure. "Oh, I'm well aware of the game we're playing. But don't mistake my refusal to cooperate for arrogance. It's just that some secrets are meant to stay hidden."

The room seemed to contract, the air thick with unresolved tension. Aaron cleared his throat and your eyes fell back on him. "Miss Y/L/N, give us a name and we can make things easier for you. But if you don't cooperate..." His eyes traveled down along your body, the goosebumps rose on your skin in response to the heat of his gaze. "I'm afraid we have to resort to extreme measures."

A brief pause hung in the room. There was something in the way he was staring at you. He was looking at you with a profound determination that seemed very different from the way he assessed you before. Under the weight of his scrutiny, you felt your body growing hot. Your breath hitched, and a flush of warmth crept up your neck and tingled in your cheeks.

You regarded him for a moment before you finally spoke, your voice calm but tinged with a hint of defiance.

"If you think you can break me, Aaron, you're gravely mistaken. But if you're interested in the name..." you leaned back, crossing your arms. "I guess you'll have to earn it."

The tension in the room escalated as your words hung in the air. His jaw clenched, and when you thought you had won the upper hand over this battle of wits, he surprised you by waving his hand in the air, and Spencer came forward.

It was as if they had planned this. The way Aaron instructed his partner to move seemed rehearsed and calculated. Spencer walked over to you and before you could register what was happening, he grabbed onto your arm and wrenched you out of your chair with a force you didn't know he possessed.

Your voice carried a mix of anger and frustration as you protested, "What the hell are you doing?"

You suddenly felt him run his hands along your arms. "Checking for weapons."

The scoff you gave him was loud. "Oh, now you're treating me like a criminal?"

"It's a mere precaution."

And then you felt it, the way his touch lingered on your body. It was far from any normal search. His hands felt warm on your skin, even over the material of your shirt, as he continued to pat down your arms. There was a certain roughness in his movements as he slid his arms around your backside and you couldn't mistake the way he gripped your ass more than he should probably have.

"This is ridiculous," you muttered under your breath. "You won't find anything."

"I'll be the judge of that." He slightly shoved your shoulders. "Put your hands on the table."

You reluctantly did as you were told, silently gritting your teeth. His hands moved with purpose, and as much as you wanted to stop this questionable act, your body was reacting in a way that had you questioning yourself instead.

Why was your heart beating so fast as he stood behind you? Why was it getting so hard to breathe when his hands slipped around your waist? And why did it seem you were anticipating more when his palms slightly hovered over your breasts?

"Is this really necessary?" You asked quietly, trying to act as if his rough hands on you weren't affecting you. "This feels more like an attempt for intimidation."

You could practically hear the smugness in his voice as he asked, "Are you intimidated, Miss Y/L/N?"

You liked to think that you weren't, but honestly, you didn't know anymore. You had tried your best to put on a mask to avoid appearing weak, but as he started to squeeze your breasts in the palm of his hands, it finally dawned on you what was happening—You were finally caught, there was a high chance of you ending up in jail, and now a federal agent was touching you inappropriately, groping you in a crude form of patting you down.

And to your dismay, you actually liked it.

But you had too much of a pride, that was why you found yourself lying through your teeth. "No."

Spencer hummed a reply as if he didn't believe you. He squeezed your breasts through your shirt again, palming at them as he slightly felt your nipples stiffen through the material, and he couldn't resist rolling them as his touch continued lower. Your breath hitched as he mapped out your curves, one of his hands delving between your thighs before he stopped right at the center of your heat.

You let out a gasp.

"I-Is this even legal?"

Your mind went blurry as you felt his fingers touching you through the thin fabric of your pants. "Are you questioning how the law enforcement works?"

You couldn't answer him. Not because you didn't want to, but because you weren't able to form any coherent words as he continued to palm your sex, his fingers continuing to rub you. You were suddenly so focused on the way he was touching you, your head hanging low as you felt the sensation throughout your body, that you didn't even hear Aaron calling out your name.

It wasn't until Spencer retrieved his hand from between your thighs, and yanked your hair from behind, that you were forced to meet Aaron's gaze. "He called you," Spencer mocked, tightening his grip.

Aaron leaned forward, assessing the way you were arching your back with both of your hands planted on the table. "You have two options. One, we can play nicely, you give us a name and we'll go easy on you." His voice dropped lower as he continued, "Or two, you keep with this attitude and we might have to coax the answer out of you."

You locked eyes with him, a silent challenge burning in your gaze. Despite being in this vulnerable position, there was an undeniable strength in your stare, a refusal to surrender to their intimidation. Aaron met your gaze with a profound understanding.

"The hard way it is then." You saw him lean back in his chair as he crossed his arms, the subtle movement actuating his broad chest. "You know what to do, Reid."

There was nothing remotely gentle about the way Spencer handled you after those words. He shoved you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you gasped, your body pressed against the cool surface of the table. Somehow between your struggles, he managed to slide his hands around your waist, unbuttoning your pants before pushing them down your legs.

The air hit your bare skin, and even when you felt the cool breeze, your body was seething with fire, burning through your veins. The warmth spread along your cheeks as you realized you were wearing your skimpiest underwear, a flimsy material of dark lace that barely covered your sex. He gripped your ass with the palm of his hands, fingertips digging into the plush skin as he spread you apart.

"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" You felt him shift behind you and you imagined him kneeling right in front of your heat. The moment his knuckles brushed along your wet patch, your hips bucked involuntarily. "She's wet, Hotch, I think she's getting a little too excited."

"I'm not surprised," the older man said. "She does seem like a slut."

Your head snapped at him. "I am not a slut."

"Oh, you are a slut." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, holding your chin in a vice grip, forcing you to look at him. "And we'll prove you how much of a whore you actually are."

Right on queue, a surprised gasp left your lips when Spencer's large palm burned your skin, giving your ass a harsh slap. The sound echoed in the room and he repeated the motion, watching in satisfaction the way your ass rippled for him. You fell into a false sense of security as he began to soothe his hand against your burning skin before pulling back to give another loud smack, and your mouth fell apart in pleasure.

"Not a fucking slut?" Aaron taunted, his thumb brushing on your lower lip. "That's the most farfetched lie you told us ever since you walked through that door."

You glared at him, but your defiance slowly shattered when you felt Spencer pulling down your panties over the curve of your ass, slipping them down your legs. The evidence of your arousal stuck onto the fabric and you felt your cheeks going warm in embarrassment. Spencer sucked in a gasp as he took in the sight of your lower half completely naked for him.

"Barely even touched you and you're soaking wet," he murmured, letting his thumb brush over your pussy, gauging your reaction. Your nose scrunched as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side, yet you could still feel his touch everywhere.

Each downstroke he made gave a light pull against your clit without giving any direct contact, and each time his fingers came back up, he slowly spread your folds open for him, briefly allowing your slickness to come in contact with the cold breeze of air.

Your mind became hazy, and just when you thought your body couldn't react more to his touch, he slipped a finger between your folds, feeling your slick against the dainty flesh. The motion caused your hips to buck erratically and your hands immediately reached up to grip onto the edge of the table.

He slipped deep inside you as your arousal coated him, circling your tight entrance as he felt the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his finger. He let out a low grunt as he felt how tight you were around him, curling at the knuckle while he began to drag his calloused pad against the soft spot inside you, making your body shake just from the mere contact.

The subtle reaction didn't go unnoticed by Aaron and he watched as your eyes glazed over. He couldn't stop himself from smirking, his features revealing a hint of amusement.

"You're enjoying this too much. I'm starting to think you're keeping your silence for the sake of this." You moved your head away from his grasp, only for him to grip your jaw harder. "Don't fucking move. Keep your eyes on me while he fucks your tight little pussy."

You never thought you'd be hearing such crude words from him, not with his stoic demeanor and polished facade, nor did you expect your body to react the way it did when those words filled your ears. You couldn't help it, your body betrayed your mind as your cunt continued to throb between your thighs. You could feel the desire building inside you, threatening to burst as you felt your body shake, and Spencer was well aware of this as he felt your walls clenching around his finger.

The laugh coming through his lips rang in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "She liked that."

Aaron raised his eyebrows at you. "You like it when I talk like this?" He taunted. "You like it when I tell you how much of a slut you are taking his fingers so deep inside you?"

Your eyelids dropped lower at his words, and right at that moment, a lewd squelch filled the room as Spencer slowly slipped another finger into your dripping cunt, stretching you out as he began to thrust them inside you at a steady pace. Your body quivered as your breath quickened, and you found yourself grinding against his touch, desperately trying to get him to press the same spot inside you.

"Look at you fucking yourself on my fingers," Spencer cooed, his free hand smacking your bare ass again, and you found yourself arching your back. "You really are filthy."

Aaron laughed. "Acting like you didn't want it a second ago." He gripped your jaw tighter, forcing a gasp out of you at the subtle pain. He took advantage of your opened mouth by slipping his thumb inside. "Suck on my finger, Sweetheart."

You didn't know which one surprised you the most, his sudden term of endearment, or the order he gave you. You hesitated, because the moment you willingly sucked on his finger, you knew you would lose. The moment you followed through to his demand, he would have the upper hand and you would simply be the pawn in this game.

Aaron, as you realized, wasn't a patient man. His other hand reached for your hair and then, with a sharp and sudden yank, he tore at your hair. "Don't make me use more force than I already am."

Your roots tingled, your scalp throbbing, and a few tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to show any sign of weakness, and leveled your gaze at him.

He pulled your hair again. "Suck."

The pain was so much for you that you found yourself wavering. You swirled your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan was pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. "That's it," he praised you. "Suck on it as if you're sucking my cock."

Your walls clenched again. A sound of pleasure erupted from Spencer as he felt your cunt sucking in his fingers, and without warning, he pumped them into you with so much force you couldn't stop yourself from moaning this time. He laughed, as did Aaron, and your body shook as you felt that familiar sensation tightening along your body.

The room around you seemed to blur and melt away at the pleasure coursing in your veins. It started in the pit of your stomach, a warm, liquid sensation that spread like a slow-burning fire, radiating outwards in waves. Your hushed moan was muffled by Aaron's thumb in your mouth, but the sound of your pathetic whining didn't go unnoticed by both men.

You were so fucking close you could feel every nerve in your body on high alert. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and your body quivered with the intensity of the sensation. Your eyes fell shut as the lewd sound of your arousal filled the room, and just when you were about to let go, Spencer suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, wrenching away that peak of pleasure you were desperately chasing.

Your eyes shot open, dilated pupils now wide with shock and confusion. Aaron met your gaze with amusement, a sadistic smile dancing on his lips as he pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop. "Stupid girl, thinking we'd actually let you cum."

The abrupt contrast between the heights of your pleasure and the stark void that followed was jarring. But before you could comprehend your disappointment, you heard a shuffle behind you followed by footsteps circling you. Spencer finally came back into your line of vision and with no one standing behind you, you tried to push yourself from the table, only to be shoved back down by Aaron.

"Fucking stay where you are," he commanded, his sharp voice piercing right through you. Your eyes were fixed on him, gaze unwavering as he slowly rose from his seat. And then suddenly he was the one behind you, and now Spencer stood right in front of you, looking down at you with amusement.

"You know," he started, his fingers trailing the side of your face. You moved your head away from his touch, but unlike Aaron, he didn't force you to look at him. He merely chuckled as he continued, "You wouldn't be in this position if you had given us the name."

Hearing this, you finally glanced up at him. The self-confidence he carried was starting to annoy you and you couldn't stop yourself from spitting venom, especially when he had ripped away the pleasure thrumming in your body. "I told you to fucking earn it."

The remaining air was knocked from your lungs when the palm of his hand collided with your cheek, your head jolting to the right from the force of the impact. Bright white stars danced behind your closed eyelids, and for a second you thought that you were dizzy from the shock. But then you felt it, the pressure that had been building in your core giving way, a wave of pleasure washing over you.

"Dirty girl," he taunted. "Here I was trying to shut you up and you actually liked that? You like being slapped around?"

You remained quiet, looking away from him.

"And don't worry, you will tell us by the end of this." You faintly hear the sound of metal ringing in your ears. Your eyes fell back on him and your heart sank when his hands moved down to his belt, unbuckling it as he let it hang around his hips.

His fingers moved to unbutton his pants before tugging down the fly. The sight of his hard cock tenting beneath his briefs had your cunt clenching in anticipation, as much as you hated to admit it. Then his thumbs dipped into the hem of his boxers, tugging the fabric down, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He was bigger than you'd expected. He was thick and solid, veins danced along his length and the droplet of wetness on his tip was too mesmerizing you couldn't look away.

He wrapped a fist around his length, hissing in relief as he made his way towards you. "Now let's put that filthy mouth of yours to good use." He pressed the head of his cock against your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you as he leaned forward. "Open."

The musky scent of him overwhelmed you as you breathed in and you involuntarily opened your mouth wide to accommodate his girth. The flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as he gave soft, shallow thrusts inside your warm mouth. His fingers held onto your face as he watched his length disappear inside you.

"God, look at you—" Spencer rasped, his voice sounding strained. "Good fucking girl."

Each roll of his hips has more of his thick cock slipping inside your mouth. His palm moved to the back of your head, holding you steady as he forced his length further down your throat, watching as your cheeks darkened and your eyes watered. Your hands moved up to push at his thighs as you struggled against his grip, the desire to breathe overwhelming as you tried to push him away.

You suddenly felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and you began to cough and splutter around him, your throat constricting as the sensation flowed directly through his cock. The sensation made him groan out in pleasure as he finally eased his grip on your head and leaned back, allowing you to breathe as you continued to splutter, drool dripping down your chin as you gulped for much-needed air.

Your head felt delirious. You were too focused on catching your breath when you unexpectedly felt something thick pushing into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking you over as you let out a scream.

"Hotch," Spencer laughed, tightening his grip on your hair while he positioned his cock back onto your lips again. "You shocked her."

Aaron merely grunted a reply as he held onto your hips and started to thrust his cock into you. His thickness sent a ripple of pain between your legs. He was definitely bigger than anyone you'd been with before, your breath coming out in soft, shallow pants as he drove more of himself inside your tightness. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip as a dull ache filled your body, trying to ignore the pain as he continued to stretch your tight heat.

There were no words after that, the room was hazy with desire as the heat built within the small space. The two men focused their attention on your body as you took them at the same time. It was filthy, depraved, and something you'd never done before. You never thought you would be in this position, nor did you think you'd actually enjoy being used like this.

Because you did, you really fucking did. Your entire body felt hot, a scorching fire flowing through your veins as you embraced the sensation, an indescribable pleasure taking over as Aaron's cock curved towards that delicious spot inside you with precision.

Your body was pressed against the table, sweaty and exhausted. It was torture, the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt and burned with pleasure at the same time. Each thrust had you hanging on the edge of release, unable to think straight as your mouth continued to mindlessly babble around Spencer's cock.

Every so often he'd hold the back of your head securely so you couldn't move away as he continued to bury himself in your throat. A pleased sound escaped his lips as you started to choke around his girth. It felt like you were starting to drown yourself as he shoved into you ruthlessly. Your lungs cried out for air as you began to feel woozy from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to breathe through your nose.

"Fuck," he hissed, finally easing his hips back to give you relief. You spluttered as you gasped for air, a mixture of his arousal and your spit dribbled down your chin. "So fucking messy."

You tried to calm your breathing, but it didn't take long for your brain to turn into mush again because Aaron snapped his hips, pulling a moan from your lips as he started a harsh pace. Fingertips dug into your hips as he buried more of himself inside your tightness, your inner walls pulsing around him.

His thrusts were hard and you were certain you'd have marks on your skin from the way he was rutting against you, a dull ache panging inside your lower half. Your mouth fell open in a constant moan as you tried to hold your body up against the table. A throb coursed through you as you tried to hold onto the edge, your breath coming out in harsh pants. You were so desperate for your release, your body so close to coming undone.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, are you going to cum?"

You mumbled out a garbled reply as he continued thrusting into you relentlessly, your fingertips digging into the table as you felt his cock dragging against your inner walls. Aaron grunted at the sensation of you clenching around him. His eyes drifted down to where your bodies were connected and watched the way his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt.

He was on the edge of his release, you could tell by the way he thrust into you desperately. You prepared yourself for your own pleasure, your hips moving involuntarily, meeting his erratic movement, as you seek more friction from him. You whimpered, feeling his fingertips dig into your skin almost painfully and you felt the familiar sensation traveling along your body. Fuck. Fuck yes. You were finally going to—

A drawn-out whine left your lips when he pulled his cock out from your tight heat. The sudden emptiness had your body shaking violently. It wasn't until you felt a streak of wetness spluttering on your back that you realized he had reached his own high without letting you reach your own.

"Shit," he gasped, slapping your ass as he watched his own liquid seeping down the curve of your back. "That was incredible."

You groaned. Fucking selfish man.

"What was that?"

It then dawned on you that you actually mumbled those words out loud. You shook your head and he groaned at your lack of words. "That didn't sound like nothing."

And suddenly, as if you weighed nothing, he grabbed onto your body and turned you over, pushing you onto your back. You were too weak to even fight him as he shoved your pants off your feet before spreading your legs apart. You watched as he leaned down and a long string of clear liquid fell from his lips toward your cunt, letting it trickle down between your folds.

"Knew you were a slut," he hissed, before straightening himself and tucking his cock back in his pants. Your eyes drifted toward him. He was big, just as big as you felt him inside you. But it wasn't his sheer size that surprised you, it was Spencer standing by your feet that had your heart peaking up its pace. Aaron smirked as he stepped back and Spencer quickly took his place between your legs.

"Look at you still holding back," Aaron taunted, genuine curiosity lacing in his voice as he paced around the room. "You're worn out. You're filthy. Aren't you tired of playing this game?"

You looked over at him tiredly. Amidst the pulsing waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, you fought to maintain your focus. "Y- You haven't done anything m-much to earn—"

His laughter sent a chill through the room. "Oh, Sweetheart, you think you're winning, but you're not." He then locked his gaze on you. "Trust me, we already have you in the palm of our hands."

You tried retorting back but the once-sharp edges of your concentration began to blur when you felt Spencer's throbbing cock right between your pussy. Each pulse of pleasure sent tremors through your resolve as he eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen head through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way you spread for him as though inviting him inside.

"You're already fucked out," Spencer murmured, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, feeling it catch against your tight entrance. "Yet look at you swallowing me."

He let the underside of his cock split your folds open, resting it between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. The sinful noise that left your lips had his cock throbbing painfully, the thick veins protruding from his length. He angled your body against him, pushing more of his thick girth inside your trembling body, feeling the way you squeezed around him as he stretched you out.

Spencer pressed his fingers into the curve of your hips as his gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart. You gasped, your breaths growing more erratic as he managed to push all of his length inside you. He ran his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel his cock inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he pulsed at the sensation.

"Fuck, baby," he growled, "Taking me so well."

And then he slowly dragged his cock away from you, keeping just the tip in your entrance before plunging back inside in a harsh, jarring movement, jolting you in surprise. You arched your back and tipped your head back in pleasure, just to find Aaron towering above you, looking down at you with an eerie smile.

His fingers trailed down your shoulder blades before they hovered at the buttons on your shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. "I think it's time that you give us a name."

Your body writhed in response to the waves of sensation as you tried to ground yourself. But it was hard to keep thinking straight when he grabbed onto the underlayer of your bra and lifted it over your chest. The way your perky breasts spilled out from beneath the fabric made both men hum in satisfaction.

Calloused palms grabbed onto your breasts and your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the sensation. His thumb brushed against your soft nipple, watching as it began to rise to a stiff peak as he mimicked the action on your other breast, all the while as Spencer began thrusting into your cunt at a painfully slow pace.

"Come on, Sweetheart, don't you want to cum on his cock?"

"Fuck," Spencer grunted, feeling you clench around him. "Keep talking to her."

Aaron chuckled as he continued playing with your breasts. "It's torture, isn't it?" He closed his index finger and thumb around your nipples, pinching ever so gently. You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes as arousal flushed through you. "Give us a name and we'll give you what you want."

And then you felt Spencer rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, burying himself deeper and deeper before he slowly began increasing his speed. Your body jerked wildly each time he pushed deep into you. Noticing this, his thumb moved to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. It felt too good, so good that you could no longer hold back from moaning out loud.

Your cries of pleasure snapped him into action and his hands moved down to your ass, holding you up to him as he started pounding harder into you. Your head fell back, chest heaving up and down, and that was when you felt Aaron closing his lips around one of your nipples. You writhed, your body thrashing underneath both men. Your senses reeling, the warmth of multiple hands on your skin sent jolts of electricity down your spine, igniting a wildfire of pleasure within you.

Aaron pulled away from you and your eyes flickered open at the loss, only to be met with Spencer hovering above you. Your eyes swept over him, and you looked down where you were joined, watching how his hips moved in constant thrusts. He was enjoying this, you could tell by the way his fingers burned your skin and the occasional grunt escaping his lips.

At the sound of his voice, you looked up at his face, glistening with a sheen of sweat while his messy hair tousling over it. The moment your gazes met each other, something inside you snapped. The muscles in your core began to coil, tightening and constricting around him right as your climax slowly pushed through the fog inside your head. Spencer felt it too, and he suddenly slowed his pace, throwing you a cunning smile.

You felt your resistance starting to crumble. The intensity of your pleasure grew almost unbearable, and you could no longer deny it. Your eyes welled with tears at the overwhelming sensation, and the thought of having your orgasm ripped again from you seemed like another torture you didn't want to endure.

You were going to regret this. You definitely would. But you couldn't dwell on the consequences of your actions when desperation coursed through you like a fever, an all-consuming hunger that you couldn't deny. Your body ached for release and craved it with an intensity that was maddening. 

Your breath came in ragged gasps, and then your eyes, wide and filled with desperation, pleaded with him silently as you found yourself finally giving in, muttering a name you had tried to keep to yourself. A name involved in the crime these men had been pestering you for. A name that had Aaron smirking devilishly as he leaned over to you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek in a caress that was so foreign.

"Good girl," he mumbled, his voice lacing with satisfaction at the way you finally crumbled. He was right, you were already in the palms of their hands, it was simply a matter of time until you caved in. "Good fucking girl."

Once you surrendered, you couldn't stop the whine falling through your lips. Your desperate moan rang deeply in the room, snapping something primal inside Spencer, and he trusted his hips into you roughly. A gasp escaped your lips, legs falling open wider as he split you wider than you already were.

Your mind went absolutely numb with pleasure as he kept rutting up inside you, your body becoming nothing more than a mess, overtaken by a wave of sweat and erotic bliss. You felt yourself trembling, your breathing becoming more ragged as his thrusts became sloppier.

“Fucking hell,” he grunted, noticing the way your mouth fell open as pleasure engulfed you. "That's it, baby, let me fuck you dumb."

You cried out, babbling incoherent sentences as he thrust harder, grabbing your hips and tilting into you slightly, making him go even deeper as he moved with you.

"Go on, cum on my cock," he growled breathlessly through his rapid pounding. "Let me feel you."

“Fuck—” You cried out for him, your overstimulated body shaking beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure came rushing through your body, erupting in the most intense way. He watched the way you convulsed beneath him in your release, watching the way a white, sticky liquid circled his cock every time his skin brushed your inner walls. His thumb was unrelenting against your clit and you tried to angle your body away from his touch, the pleasure too intense as your lower half throbbed around him.

You continued to clench around him between your bliss, your legs trembling from the position as he arched his back, focusing the power of his thrusts straight into your tightness. A shiver burst through you at the sensation. And with one final thrust, his whole body tensed. He pushed forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, spreading his warmth in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips.

You were breathing hard, trying to regain your composure, and a moan left your lips when he finally pulled out. Cringing at the fluid slowly leaking out of you, you tried to close your legs only to be stopped as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to expose your body. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release.

“Look at the mess you made." Piercing eyes watched you as white liquid trickled down your ass. A feeble mewl left your lips as his thick fingers moved down to catch it, deliberately pressing against your folds as you wriggled in his grasp. A laugh left his lips as he dragged the string of wetness along your sex, pushing it back inside you.

"I think I ruined her."

Aaron's laughter filled the room, and just as you were about to push yourself off the table, you felt him grasping both of your hands, pushing them above your head. Your eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what are you doing?"

Then you felt it, the cool metal wrapped around your wrist, sinking into the flesh of your skin as you tried to move from his grip. An unexpected panic surged within you. "Sweetheart, we know you're involved in more than one crime." The soft click of the metal lock was loud in your ears. "You need to give us more names."

Your body, still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, now felt more exposed than ever. You looked up to find both men staring down at you, and at very moment, you realized, as you felt the handcuffs digging into your wrist, that you were going to be here for a very long time.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut

[mypoisonedvine]

"𝙄 𝙬��𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄'𝙢 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪." | dark!jackson rippner x reader

(I'm sorry but also no I'm not because wes craven knew exactly what he was doing when he put that line in the movie... he fucking knew...)

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after following you for weeks as part of his job, jackson got a few ideas in his head about making you his, but finding out you had a boyfriend meant he needed to change his approach.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | just under 9k (wow what the actual fuck)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | DARK NONCON SMUT (18+ only, don't keep reading if you're not physically or emotionally mature enough to manage your own content consumption please and thank you), knife kink, stalking, forced exhibitionism, forced infidelity, humiliation, vaginal and anal sex (whoops), pain kink/painal, ass to pussy (god this fic is disgusting lmao), hair pulling, brief breeding kink/forced breeding, some angst but really it's just filth

once again, this is a dark character being dark and I don't wanna hear y'all acting brand new about it so no hate please. that said, if you do enjoy this (which I very much hope you do) please consider reblogging to support my work :) comments are especially appreciated and literally make me so so happy!!

Following you was just part of the job— and Jackson did not like his job mixing with his personal life.

The problem was, he hadn’t had much of a personal life lately.  No time for it; one or two hook-ups, women he met in bars, but that’s it.  And believe it or not, he wanted more than that.  Nobody would accuse Jackson of being sentimental— not really an attitude you can have when you organize illegal weapons sales and political assassinations— but he wasn’t made of stone.  He wanted to be able to share at least part of his life with someone… or, you know, have a nice set of legs waiting for him at home that he could get between every night.  Either, or both, would do.

It was an unfortunate coincidence that his realization that he wanted a girlfriend, or at the very least a plaything of his own, came right around the same time that he started to follow you.  He was only doing it to pick up on your habits, figure out a way to get to you so he could blackmail you into being his inside man for his next job.  It was supposed to be pretty simple: you were a museum events coordinator in charge of an upcoming lecture series which would feature a speech from a Bolivian presidential candidate who was unfortunately unfriendly to cartels.  The American government not only endorsed him, but had him under incredibly tight security.  This speaking event was going to be a rare chance to get to him in a public space without metal detectors, and Jackson was being compensated generously to ensure your museum would let a few extra attendees in the back.

But see, the Bolivian presidential election was the last thing on Jackson’s mind as he watched you through your window.  His eyes drifted all over you, mesmerized by the way you prepared yourself for your day— styling your hair in the mirror, smoothing the wrinkles in your white button-up, pulling those stockings up your thighs…

He caught himself biting his lip and shook it off, straightening up in the driver’s seat of his car; he knew he should probably leave then, beat you to your work and then wander into the museum to feign interest in a few artifacts before striking up a conversation.  But he loitered a bit longer, letting himself imagine how quickly he could rip off those clothes you were so thoughtfully dressing yourself with.

Eventually, he managed to pull his attention away from you and start the car, sighing as he tried to remember his plan of attack for ‘accidentally’ meeting you later today.

~

The museum might’ve been interesting, if he wasn’t so distracted by you.  He was loitering, hands in his pockets, pretending to look at the paintings and artifacts as he waited for you to be near enough to strike up an innocuous conversation with.  Early in the day, he saw you give a tour to a couple considering the museum for a wedding location, but kept his distance— it could be a while before you were available and he didn't want you to notice him yet, or he'd have to justify having been in the museum all day by himself.

For the first time since he’d started this job, Jackson felt slightly nervous to speak to you.  It was always a big step, going from following someone to actually approaching them, but usually it didn’t give him any specific emotional reaction.  Sure, he might feel a certain amount of pressure to do this correctly lest he blow the whole thing by tipping off his target, but he never was worried something would go wrong.  This time, though, he felt his heart picking up every time he glanced at you from across the museum, closer to you than he’d ever been.  His palms were even a bit clammy when he saw you walk by and realized this was the moment he needed to strike.  God, did he really have a crush?  How pathetic… but he couldn’t worry about that now, he was about to lose his chance as you brushed by him quickly.

"Miss?" he got your attention, gently touching your shoulder through your shirt as you passed by; you seemed a little startled by the physicality, yes, but not exactly offended.

"Oh, um— can I help you?" you said.  He’d heard you speak before, on the wiretap and all, but it was a little different in person like this— and directed at him.

"I was gonna ask you about this sculpture, if you didn't mind," he explained with a gentle smile.

"Oh, well, one of our dosants would love to talk to you about our collection—" you began, starting to look for the closest staff member designated to help him, but he interrupted.

"So, you don't know anything about the stuff here?"

Your attention moved back to him and you smiled to hide your obvious defensiveness. "No, I do," you assured, "I actually am uniquely equipped to tell you about this sculpture: I studied Incan art specifically during my master's program."

He gave his best 'quietly impressed' face and nodded; he knew he could get you with that, you had kind of a know-it-all thing going on, which he happened to find annoyingly attractive.  "Alright, then tell me about it," he challenged.

"Well," you sighed, crossing your arms as you looked at the piece, "we got this one a few years ago, it's actually a ceremonial vessel— there’s the llama head and the bird on this side here, those were both animals with a lot of cultural significance…”

As you pointed out elements of the vessel, he leaned in ostensibly to look at where you were gesturing— but it was all an excuse to get close to you, warm you up to him.

“They would’ve used this to pour essentially a form of beer on the ground,” you continued, “in hopes of increasing the strength of the crops and fertility."

"Fascinating," he smiled at you, and you didn’t back away when he stood closer.  Like fish in a barrel.  "How old is it?"

"It's estimated to be about four or five hundred years old,” you explained.

"Wow," he nodded, looking at the stone carving behind the glass again.  "It's interesting to me that humans have always made art— and always been superstitious.  Though I have to be honest, if I was living before the invention of birth control I don't think I'd be praying for fertility."

You smirked a little, and he hoped he hadn't gone too far— but it was fun to look at you and know what you must be thinking about.  He could only hope that you were thinking about it with him in mind.

“Jackson, by the way,” he introduced himself, “my name’s Jackson.  It feels unfair that you’ve gotta wear the nametag and I get to be anonymous.”

You laughed a little, glancing down at the silver nametag on your blazer and then back up at him.  “Fair enough; welcome to our museum, Jackson.”

“So, wait,” he tilted his head, “forgive the late reaction here, but— if you’ve got a master’s degree of that caliber, how’d you end up as an event planner?”

“Well, believe it or not, the position does require historical knowledge,” you explained.  “I started in curation, though— just moved to events because I was too cooped up in the back offices… I like meeting new people.”

Although Jackson would never consider himself particularly empathetic, he did think he had a decent sense of people— specifically, when they were lying.  And that felt like a lie— a white lie, maybe, but still.  A lie you were telling yourself most of all, that this was what you wanted to do.  And it wasn’t that he really thought you disliked your job, moreso that his two weeks of following you did not indicate you harbored a strong desire to meet new people.  You were a total homebody: rejecting offers to go out for drinks or dinner from friends and coworkers, staying up late watching TV instead of hitting the town or something, shrinking into your room every night and staying there until it was time to go to work again.  He’d only seen you leave your house once that first weekend, and it was to pick up groceries— that’s it.  No hot date, no concerts… almost no social life at all.  Either you stayed late at the museum, or you went home.

And he also found that annoyingly attractive.  Jackson, after all, was a workaholic himself; he imagined he would go out and do fun things, if he had the time, but right now nothing sounded better than going home and cuddling up with a sweet girl like you, being lazy couch potatoes together, resting after a long day of espionage, cyberterrorism, actual terrorism, and whatever else his work day got him up to.

….Jesus, when did he get so goddamn sentimental?!

“It certainly seems like a unique job,” Jackson replied. 

“Every day’s a little different,” you agreed.

“Sounds like my job,” he snorted, “but I don’t work with other people much— I think it would be more entertaining with other people around.  Especially when they can tell me everything there is to know about Incan art.”

“Okay, I don’t know everything,” you backpedaled, not seeming to really notice the larger sentiment of his statement, “but I can certainly hold my own.  I like to think we all have something we know a little too much about, and could ramble for ages about.”

“Yeah, I hope so, or we’re just weirdos,” he chuckled.  “For me it’s probably cocktails.  I’m not an alcoholic or anything— I actually don’t drink that much, just socially, you know— but I have this thing where I can guess anybody’s favorite drink order.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he smirked, “but hold on, I can’t guess yours until I really get the vibes.”

“Oh,” you nodded, “yeah— vibes, sure.”

“Hmm,” he pondered, narrowing his eyes as he looked you up and down, biting his lip like he was really thinking about it.

Here was the hard part: he really hadn’t seen you go out for drinks this whole time, so he was actually going to have to guess.  Of course, the fun part of this game was not actually getting it right— if anything, it worked better when he got corrected.  All he really needed was to get you alone long enough to tell you who he really was, what he needed from you, and how he was going to motivate you to do it… but if he could actually seduce you first, that would be a hell of a bonus.

“I’m thinking something a little sweet, not too fruity though,” he thought aloud, “something classic— you have an old soul, I think.”

You seemed to be a little surprised by that analysis, but he figured that meant he was mostly right.

“Your cocktail of choice is, obviously, a sidecar,” he announced.

For a second, he thought he might have got it from the way you smiled, but then you started to laugh.  “You were on the right track,” you admitted.

“Damn,” he snapped his fingers in playful frustration.  After a pause, he realized, “you’re not gonna tell me?”

“I figured I’d give you another guess,” you explained.

“Or,” Jackson countered, “I could take you out tonight, and you could show me yourself.  Your drink order, I mean.”

Alright, that was forward, but he figured he’d been doing well so far.  Instead, though, you tensed up a bit, causing Jackson to knit his eyebrows together for a moment.  “I would, really, but, I have plans tonight… with my boyfriend,” you said.

He swallowed behind a barely-suppressed frown.  Following you for all this time and he hadn’t noticed any boyfriend; were you lying just to get him to back off?  You’d seemed so flattered before.  “Oh?” Jackson tried to get out in his most neutral voice.  “That’s great— is he taking you somewhere nice?

“Even better,” you blinked quickly, a shy smile lifting your face.  “He works here at the museum, but he’s been gone almost an entire month to pick up some artifacts from around Eastern Europe… hasn’t even been able to use a phone out there.  So he’s promised to come over and give me a first look at everything he got, and apparently he’s brought something just for me, so…”

“That’s sweet,” Jackson replied, willing his nostrils not to twitch.  “Nice to know he was thinking of you all the way over there.  I travel a lot for my work, actually, and it’s… hard to find somebody loyal these days.”

You nodded in agreement, sighing slightly.  “Yeah, it is.”

“I mean, gone for a month, no communication, no reminders of you— just out there surrounded by opportunities and nothing keeping him from them,” Jackson went on.  “That’s a lot to get through without at least one drunken encounter.”

You furrowed your brow, looking at him with a sort of grimace.  “I… I guess,” you mumbled in reply.  “I do have a lot of work to get done so I think I’ll just let you explore,” you decided.

“What if I have more questions about the pieces?” he asked.

“Try reading the little plaque underneath it,” you suggested flatly, already turning and walking away.

Jackson watched to leave for a second before scoffing to himself.  Bitch.  But it didn’t make a difference anyways: one way or another, he was going to get to you— for the sake of the job, of course.  Although this boyfriend character was certainly a spanner in the works of his secondary plan to get you in bed, Jackson had to admit that he was ultimately an advantage for his actual purpose with you: an attachment, something he could exploit to get what he wanted.  Do what I say, or he gets hurt.

Of course, he knew he should use that to make you be his inside man for that stupid lecture series— he wasn’t going to get the second half of his payoff until the cartel had their chance to make an example out of the visiting politician.  But, as a small smile crept over his face while he walked out of the museum, he realized that he could use his leverage for so much more than that.

~

The door was unlocked when you got home; beaming, you realized it meant that your boyfriend beat you here, and was likely waiting for you just around the corner.

“Babe?” you called out, shutting the door behind you and shirking your purse and blazer to set down on the wooden credenza.

And yes, he was waiting for you around the corner alright, but you gasped in shock and felt your stomach sink when you saw him.  He was bound to a chair with zipties, restrained at his wrists and ankles with tape over his mouth, looking a bit roughed up and absolutely terrified.

“Oh my god!” you gasped, running to him, but he oddly seemed to pull away from you as much as he could when you tried to break one of the ties.  “What the fuck, what’s— oh my god, are you—?” you rushed, not even knowing where to start and just focusing on freeing him.  But he just kept letting out muffled grunts and shaking his head— like he didn’t want you to keep going.  Of course, you’d been so shocked by it that you hadn’t even considered why he looked so scared, why he seemed to want you to get away from him: whoever did this was still in the house.

It seemed obvious in retrospect, but it was too late now; you screamed when someone grabbed you, but the sound was muted by a hand over your mouth.  “Shh,” a voice beside your ear soothed as a blade pressed to your neck.  “Nobody’s going to get hurt if you behave.”

Your boyfriend hung his head defeatedly, and you thought you heard the sound of him crying though it was hard to tell.

“You missed him quite a lot, didn’t you?” the man asked, and you wrinkled your brows together as you wondered how he could’ve known that he was gone for a while.  “Left you all alone here, poor thing— probably got all worked up, lonely, needy… like three nights ago, when I saw you through your bedroom window, touching yourself."

Your face burned with humiliation— not even that he saw you doing that, really, but just knowing he'd been watching you for god-knows how long.  That made you feel more violated than anything.

“Wanted to help you so bad,” he purred, “but I had to wait.  I’m not waiting anymore— you’ve got me feeling pretty fucking impatient these days.”

You kept thinking about what you could do to get him away from you— his feet were just behind yours, you could stomp on his shoe and hope it hurt enough to distract him, or maybe you could wrench your elbow back into his side— but with the knife at your throat, you were afraid that he’d be faster than you if you tried anything.  “Please just— don’t hurt me, please,” you begged, whimpering a little, not sure what else to say at a time like this.

“Oh, honey,” he cooed, “you sound so sweet when you’re scared.”

It was the way he said that word: sweet.  It reminded you of before, something you’d done your best to forget about all day.  Something a little sweet, not too fruity— that weird guy at the museum, he’d said it just like that.  “Oh my god,” you breathed, “it’s— it’s you.”

“You remember my name, don’t you?” he smiled.

“Jackson,” you recalled, “you— oh my god—”

“I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” he chuckled, addressing your boyfriend with a grin as you turned your head enough to look up at his semi-familiar face.  “She was so into me when we met today at the museum,” Jackson informed him proudly.  “You wanted me to fuck you then, didn’t you, baby?”

“No I fucking di—” you began to deny with a sneer, but he quieted you with a finger over your mouth— of course, a finger from the hand still holding the knife, to remind you exactly why you should stop talking.

“Now, try anything, I might just have to hurt you— or, better yet, your shitstain boyfriend over there,” Jackson warned.  “I’m just waiting for an excuse to break a few of his fingers.  Don’t give me one.”

Swallowing, you shut your eyes for a longer moment— you couldn’t believe this was actually happening, like one of those horrific news articles you read before bed just to torture yourself.  Like one of those horror movies guys think are campy and fun but give you the most awful sick feeling because that could really happen.  And now it was really happening, and your first thought was somehow to wonder what you did wrong to let this happen.

“So, are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, tilting his head down to look at you questioningly.

You nodded, but he wasn’t satisfied.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” you answered quickly, and he snarled with frustration.

“No, baby, say it like I said it,” he insisted, his tone a warning not to test him again.

“I’m gonna be… I’m gonna be a good girl…” you choked out.

“Whose good girl?” he taunted, and you groaned as you shut your eyes, feeling him pull you closer to him and press his face close to yours.

“Yours!  Your good girl,” you spat out, breath picking up as you heard him purr against your cheek.  “Jackson— please, you don’t… you don’t have to do this.  Please don’t do this.”

You shivered as the knife pressed against you again and moved from your neck down to your shirt, gently slicing off the top button and exposing a little more of your chest.  “Mm, but I want to,” he explained, “wanted you since I first saw you.”

You hated the realization that he likely first saw you quite some time ago, before you ever knew he existed, and that he’d been waiting for this ever since then.

“I think it turns you on, knowing I can do whatever I want to you,” he presumed, cutting off a second button from your shirt.

“Please just go,” you begged, starting to properly cry as his teeth grazed your neck.  “You’re right— you can do whatever you want.  I can’t stop you.  Isn’t that what you wanted to prove?  Just… just don’t make me—”

“Make you?” he repeated.  “No, no— you wanted me.  I could tell.  Only thing stopping you was him.”

He pointed towards your boyfriend with the knife in his hand, who looked devastated and horrified to say the least.

“You could do better, by the way,” Jackson informed you.  “You should be with somebody who can really treat you right.”

Another button fell to the floor; your bra was visible now, baby pink lace, and your nipples hardened from the cool air on your skin— that, and the way Jackson’s breath fanned across the nape of your neck.  

“Are you getting wet for me, baby?” he whispered to you as his knife trailed delicately over your skin, tracing the curve of your breasts.  “Think it’s time for me to finally give you what you need?”

You took a deep, but shaky, breath as you tried to put on a brave face and brace for what was to come.  “My… my bedroom is upstairs,” you whispered, and Jackson laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, eager already,” he taunted.

“I just wanna get this over with,” you insisted.

“Sure,” he said facetiously with a mischievous smirk and a wink to match; you felt like you were gonna be sick.  “But bedrooms are a little, you know… basic?  That’s probably what you’re used to, real traditional stuff: missionary, in the bed, in the dark, for a few minutes on weekends only.  That’s the vibe I’m getting, at least.  You’re not used to being with somebody romantic— you know, spontaneous.”

He turned you around to face him, making you yelp a little as he spoke by your ear.  

“Somebody who just has to have you; right here, right now,” he cooed, running his tongue along the outside of your ear before suddenly kissing roughly along your neck.

“N-no, please,” you begged, imagining the humiliation you were in store for if he really did fuck you on your living room floor in front of the man you loved.  “Please, I— I said I’ll be good for you, just— take me to my room, please.”

"No, baby,” Jackson purred as he held your chin, “let’s show your little boyfriend here what you look like when a real man fucks you, huh?"

Whining, you jerked your arms forward to try to break away, but it only ensured the bruises his fingers would leave on your skin.

A second later, you were shoved to the ground, and he was on top of you wearing a wide grin.  You could hear your boyfriend kicking and screaming in the corner, but your attention was more focused on Jackson starting to open his belt.  

"Fuck! Get the fuck off of me!" you yelped, kicking and shoving as hard as you could and finding each one more helpless than the last. "You— you fucking piece of shit!"

He smacked you across the face only to pull it back harshly by the jaw, glaring into your eyes. "Better be careful with that dirty mouth," he warned, shoving two fingers between your lips until you gagged on them. "Don't need to wash that out with soap, do we?"

As you choked, you shook your head, hoping it would be enough of an apology to get you some air.

"How about come?" he joked, making you gag for more than one reason, and he laughed at the tears that rolled down your temples.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and reached down to his fly again, letting out a small satisfied sigh as he freed himself.  You sobbed a little when you accidentally caught a glimpse of his erection in his hand; he grunted when you tried to push him off again, and responded by grabbing both your wrists and pinning them down above your head.  He hummed as he stroked himself a bit, looking down at you trapped under him.

“Thought you said you were gonna be good for me,” he recalled, chuckling when you bit your shaking lip.  “You sure you don’t need me to hurt Romeo over there, give you a little motivation?”

You shook your head.  “No— I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say.  Don’t hurt him.”

“Open your legs,” he ordered.  

Hesitantly, you lifted your legs up a bit and spread them, cringing at the happy groan you heard when your skirt started to roll up your thighs.  

“Don’t move your hands,” he warned before he let go of them, leaning back and looking down at you: spread out under him, his for the taking.

He snapped off the last few buttons of your shirt, humming when your torso was exposed further.  His hand started at your neck and ran down to grope your chest through the lacy bra; he purred, pinching your hardened nipples until you were forced to react.

Pulling it down, he took a quick breath at the sight of your bare tits— his chest rising and falling— and he set his knife aside to knead them both with a hum.  "Been thinking about these for a while…" he mumbled.  You gasped when he leaned down and captured a nipple in his mouth, suckling with a wide mouth as you scrunched your nose and looked away.  Still, it made your insides pulse when he swirled his tongue around, only to pop off a second later and move to the other.  "Damn," he breathed, leaning back again to move his attention lower.

Starting at your knees, he rubbed your legs carefully, moving a little higher every time until he was gripping needily at your thighs; his own breathing was a little faster as he did it.  

You hadn't exactly imagined how this would be, obviously, but you still were surprised at how long he was taking.  Was he just trying to build up the anticipation to scare you?  Or was it for his own benefit?

He was gentle for just a few seconds before suddenly flaring his nostrils and ripping your stockings open.  Through the new hole in the fabric, he rubbed your panties and you bit down on your tongue to avoid crying any harder.  

“Fuck,” he breathed, then laughed, as he pet your cunt through the lace— they matched your bra, of course.  Your boyfriend was coming back from a long trip, you’d wanted to do something nice for him… that idea backfired completely.  “All dressed up, matching and everything… you’re too good to me, babydoll.”

You were about to correct him, make sure both of them knew that this had nothing to do with Jackson, but your open mouth only let out a gasp when Jackson pulled your panties aside to touch you.

“Oh, baby,” he groaned when he slid two fingers between your lips.  “So wet.  Fuck.  When’d you get like that, huh?  Hmm, it was the knife, wasn’t it?”

He looked over at your boyfriend and gave him a terribly smug look while he slipped a finger inside your hole.

“Women like a sense of danger,” he informed the tied man flatly.  “But… I think your girl likes it even more than most.”

You flexed on his finger, turning his attention back to you, and he licked his lips as he slipped another finger in until you winced.

“That’s too much for you already, baby?” he noticed.  “Fuck, I might break you…”

He curled the fingers inside you, clearly trying to get you warmed up for him, and you shut your eyes tight in hopes your face wouldn’t show any reaction.  There was a sense of relief when he stopped and pulled his fingers out, but it didn’t last long since the next thing he did was grab your jaw and press those fingers to your lips. 

“Ever tasted yourself before?” he asked, and you tried to turn your face away but it was useless.  “Come on, it’s good, I’ll show you.”

He licked his own fingers first, moaning in satisfaction as he did it.

“Fuck, it’s sweet,” he promised.  “Now you try it.”

This time, when he put his fingers to your mouth, you opened it and let him push them inside.  He slid them over your tongue, watching you with dark eyes.

“Suck them,” he instructed you quietly, almost a whisper, and though your cheeks burned you wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks.  “Mm, that’s it— see, you can be a good girl.  Knew you could.”

You were panting a little, for some reason, when he took his fingers away, leaving your mouth slack and wet.  He brought his hands down to his fly to finish freeing his cock, and you looked up, to the side, basically anywhere but at… that.

“Look at it,” he encouraged you, and you shook your head.  “Don’t you wanna see it before I put it inside you?”

You figured you could get him to shut up if you just did it, so you went ahead and took a glance down at his erection in his hand, only for a terrified whimper to catch in your throat.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” he grinned.  “Trying to remember the last time you had a dick this big, right?”

Trying to figure out how that’s supposed to fit.

“Get on your hands and knees for me,” he demanded suddenly, sitting back enough to get you room to do it.

You hesitated, and he suddenly looked angry as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you up a bit until you yelped.

“Go on!  Hands and fucking knees, did I stutter?” he ordered, louder.

You were a little sore and weak all over, and it became even more apparent when you awkwardly got up off the floor; you avoided your boyfriend’s gaze as you took the position, opting to just stare down at the rug under you instead, suddenly fascinated by every detail in hopes it could somehow distract you from this.  From the feeling of him delicately pushing your skirt up over your ass and his hands all over you, from the way he pushed your knees apart with his own and settled between them, from the sick drop in your stomach as his cock’s head rubbed over your clit and lined up to your opening.  Yes, it sure was a riveting pattern on this rug alright…

But, of course, Jackson wouldn’t let you get through this that easily. “Beg for it,” you heard his firm voice from behind you.

“Jackson, come on, I—” you choked, “I— just—”

“It’s okay, babydoll, go on…” he egged you on, as if shyness was the reason you were hesitating.

“Please…” you began, shutting your eyes tightly.  “Please fuck me.”

You tried not to react too much when he pushed inside, but it was big, and he himself let out a husky groan at the feeling as he filled you.  You managed to stay silent at first, but a little squeak came out halfway through, and it turned into a loud sigh when he was all the way inside.  “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his head back with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, it’s tight.  Guess that’s what happens when nobody’s here to treat you right— and I don’t just mean because he was out of town.  I can tell nobody’s given you what you need in a long time…”

Before you could wonder what could possibly make him capable of telling that, he took a tight hold of your hips and began to fuck you— slower than you expected, but not quite delicate.

Shaking, you tried to keep yourself propped up on your wobbly arms as he set his pace, and tried to keep yourself quiet while he did this.  The last thing he needed was any more reasons to think you liked this.

Still, you couldn’t fight the whimper that came when he suddenly slammed himself into you, rougher than before; your thighs even quivered for a moment.  “Fuck,” you choked out, under your breath, and he hummed back at you as he sped up a little.

“Not too deep, is it?” he asked, though it didn’t seem like he was actually concerned for your well-being (obviously).  “Not used to anything this big, huh?”

You were afraid he was going to force you to answer that, but instead he surprised you by putting a hand between your shoulder blades and shoving you down; you gasped and grunted when your chest pressed to the floor, your face thankfully turned to the side against the rug— but unfortunately, it meant you were looking right at your boyfriend.  You had to shut your eyes, too ashamed that he was seeing you like this.

“There, you like that better?” he purred as he held your hips up against his, but the new angle only forced him deeper until you were choking on nothing with every thrust.  Your hands searched wildly along the floor for something to hold onto, but eventually just had to settle for gripping the rug for dear life.  “Mm, fuck, s’good— you feel so fucking good, baby…”

The compliment sent an unwilling shiver up your spine, and your back arched even deeper than he’d forced it to.  It was too much, it was all far too much, but your toes were curling inside your (ruined) pantyhose and you bit down on your lip without thinking about it.

“Oh, see how much she likes it?” Jackson grunted, apparently still addressing the captive boyfriend in the chair— you really wished he would just leave him out of this.  “Fuck, what a pretty little whore…”

Not only could he switch from sickly-sweet to rageful in a moment, but you realized that he could somehow seem to be both at once.  Still spitting out praises and insults all at one, he fucked you rougher and meaner as your moans— pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t want to— grew louder.  He kept getting more aggressive— harder and faster, harder and faster— until you were all but screaming and you couldn’t keep your hips up anymore.  Each thrust pushed you down until you were flat against the floor, but he kept fucking you and holding the back of your neck.  One thrust seemed to go too deep suddenly, and you yelped as you reached back to try to grab his thigh out of instinct.

“Shh, shh, s’okay, baby,” he assured with a hiss.  “Fuck.”

But he kept doing it, kept fucking you deep (if a little slower) as you whined and shook under him.  “Jackson,” you heard yourself breathe, “please— I-I can’t—”

“God,” he growled, “say my name again.  That’s so hot.”

You hadn’t meant it like that, but now it was too late.  “N-no,” you tried to deny, but that didn’t last long as he grabbed you by the hair and forced your head up, laying over you enough to speak right against your ear.

“Say. My fucking. Name,” he spat.

“Jackson,” you choked out against the strain on your throat from having your neck cranked back like this.  “Jackson, f-fuck—”

He groaned and dropped your head, propping himself up so he could fuck you faster again; his gaze moved down to where his body filled yours, where each thrust made your ass bounce under torn pantyhose…

As he slowed down for a moment, panting, you wondered if maybe it was almost over— maybe it already was, but that seemed too good to be true. He was still holding you down just as hard, anyway; he put his whole weight on your arms as he turned to look at your boyfriend tied up in the chair. 

"Does she do anal?" Jackson asked him point-blank.

Your struggle renewed as you screamed angrily— but you couldn't keep it up, it fell into a helpless sob a moment later. Your boyfriend didn't give much of an answer— couldn't, really, on account of the duct tape— just kicked around against his restraints again.

Jackson shrugged as he looked down at you crying under him. "Well, you do now," he decided, pulling out and spitting into his hand.

You’d never felt so helpless, laying there on the floor while he pushed his fat tip up to your puckered hole.  “Please,” you begged for mercy, but you didn’t even have the energy to lift your head from the rug and it was all muffled and pathetic.

“It’s really not that bad,” he insisted as he started to press forward, but your whole body jumped and you let out a loud whine when his head slipped inside with a sort of pop— all that pressure giving way to a sick, stinging stretch.

“Oh my god oh my god,” you whimpered, feeling goosebumps break out all over your body from the sharp pain.  “I can’t— please, I really can’t—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m gonna go real slow,” he promised under his breath, moaning loudly as he pushed in a little deeper.  Laying on the floor like this, there was really nowhere for you to go, no way to run from the feeling.  “Just breathe, long slow breaths— focus on staying relaxed.”

Frustratingly, it was actually pretty good advice; it certainly didn’t make it painless, but when you shut your eyes and thought as much about breathing and as little about anything else as you could, it helped.

“See?  Just relax, babydoll,” he whispered, but relaxing could only do so much as he slid the rest of the way in and you felt like your whole body might go numb.  Your eyes rolled back, your insides (all of them, it seemed) flexed, your heart was pounding… you felt sick, and disgusting, and used.

He breathed heavy as he laid his weight on top of you, slipping an arm under you to wrap around your shoulders and neck. 

"Fuck, that's a tight fuckin' ass," he grunted, laughing a little as he glanced at your boyfriend, slowly beginning to move again. "This one's got you spoiled, huh? How'd a loser like you get your hands on a perfect fucktoy like this?"

He bit down on the shell of your ear as he picked up his pace quickly— way too quickly— and soon he was growling each time he slammed his hips against your ass.  You couldn’t even tell what noises you were making anymore…

"But you're gonna be mine now," he whispered to you. "Oh fuck, s'all gonna be mine. Gonna fill these pretty holes of yours every fuckin' day."

You dropped your head down defeatedly onto the floor, though shocks of pain were still making your fingers and toes curl while he roughly fucked your other hole.

“Yeah, fuck, you fuckin’ like it,” he snarled as he fucked you faster.  “Needy little slut.  You like getting all your holes filled, huh?”

You simply bit down on your lip, not realizing it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"Answer me," he insisted.

"I-I don't like it," you said— quietly, because if you spoke any louder it would've been mostly unintelligible with sobs.

"Huh?" he taunted, leaning in closer.

"It hurts, Jackson," you choked, pleading.

“No?” he noticed, feigning shock with heavy sarcasm in his tone.  “Are you saying you don’t like it up the ass?”

“Please, please,” you choked out, “fuckin’ hurts— god, please, hurts—”

"You don't like it, sweetheart?" he cooed at you, cloying condescension dripping from every word as he roughly pet the hair out of your face. You whined and shook your head. "Well, I could always put it back in your cunt, would that make you feel better?"

He chuckled at your grimace of disgust.

"Is that too dirty for you?" he wondered, clicking his tongue.  "Aw, it's okay, just gonna give you what you wanted— hold still, baby."

You winced when he pulled out of your ass, only to whine as he slid back into your cunt; you hid your face, feeling how absurdly warm it had become from all this, and tried not to think about how dehumanizing what he had just done to you was.

He picked his pace right back up when he entered you, letting out a deep groan of satisfaction.  "Oh my god you're fucking dripping, is that from being fucked in your little ass?" he noticed. "Jesus Christ, wettest fucking pussy I ever had... somebody likes it dirty, hm?"

You wanted to deny it, but he wasn’t lying about your physical reaction; you were soaking, and you didn’t even know why.  It wasn’t like you found much pleasure in that experience physically, it was rather agonizing— and then there was the thought of it, of knowing you’d been used that way, and it just made you feel dizzy and weird.  Regardless, it was true… your body responded even when your mind was running in circles convincing itself there was nothing enjoyable about this.

“Such a pretty thing,” Jackson purred at you as he sped up again, shaking your whole body against the floor— that arm around your shoulders was the only thing keeping you from being pushed away, and he held you tightly like he really was worried you’d get away somehow, even though you’d stopped resisting quite a while ago.  

At least it didn’t hurt anymore— except that you were still a little sore, and he was holding you too tight and his weight made it hard to breathe, and you were probably going to get rug burn, and you felt disgusting.  But in a literal sense, it hurt less.

“Think I need to turn you over and get a good look at that pretty face,” he decided, pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back.  Maybe it was just because you knew it was only for a moment, but being empty wasn’t as much of a relief as you expected.  You were pretty much limp by this point, letting him turn you over and simply looking up at him blankly.  “Oh,” he said as he smiled proudly, “look how fucked out you look— and I’m not even done with you yet.”

Lifting your legs and pressing them against your chest, he slid back in until he was deeper than you thought possible, and you gasped and shivered helplessly.  “F-fuck, wait—“

He started to fuck into you quickly, and you nearly screamed, reaching down to try to hold his thigh or push him back or something to keep him from going so far inside you, but nothing deterred him.  For how drained you were a moment ago, the shock of this gave you renewed energy, and you hated feeling your walls bear down on him in sick, overwhelming pleasure.  “Oh god,” he moaned, “so fucking good.”

As hard as you were trying not to be loud, your efforts were lost when he reached down and roughly rubbed at your swollen clit; again, you tried to reach to stop him, holding onto his wrist and pushing his hand away with all your strength, but he bested you easily and kept going.  “Fuck!” you screamed.  “Please, please— it’s too much, I—”

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, watching proudly as your back arched and your head tilted back with a gasp.  

You hadn’t even realized you were building to an orgasm— you would’ve sworn you weren’t, before, but now you felt all sensitive and sticky, and his thumb on your clit was relentless, and the shivers that had been running all over you all evening were turning into hard, heavy jolts of— of something.  Something you’d been holding back longer than you realized.  Something you hadn’t felt in much, much longer than three weeks.

“It’s okay,” he kept encouraging you with a proud grin that turned into a growl through his teeth as he fucked you harder.  “Show him what it looks like when you’re not faking it, babydoll.  Show him who you really belong to now.”

“Please,” you cried, the word barely spoken and more just a shape you made around your cries.  If he didn’t stop now, you wouldn’t be able to, either; you were spasming uncontrollably, inside and out, it was just getting worse and worse (or better and better, depending on how you looked at it).

It felt fucking good.  You would die before you admitted it, but you didn’t have to— it was obvious.  And it was overtaking everything now, even your shame, until for one impossible moment, you were completely shameless.  You weren’t sure you had ever felt quite like that before— not just physically, but spiritually.  Shameless.  Even though all you’d felt until now was ashamed.  “Good girl,” Jackson praised you, though it was sort of lost on you as you were coming down from a high that hit you hard enough to not even feel real until it was nearly over.  

It was like time had slowed down, and then snapped back to superspeed, to hyperreality, when he finally pulled his hand away and let you have a small reprieve.  

"Fuck, I'm gonna come, oh my god," he gasped, his voice getting oddly high-pitched as he said it. "Want me to come inside, babydoll, or paint that pretty face?"

“Not… not inside,” you warned, just conscious enough to remember that.

“Mm?  Why not?” he smirked.

You were still blinking away the blurriness in your vision, panting, trying to process all that you’d just felt— so you really didn’t have any energy for stupid questions like that.  “What?” you just asked groggily.  “Why… why do you think?!”

He just laughed briefly— more like a hum— and kept going.  Of course, you should’ve known he’d do it once he realized your boyfriend didn’t; but wasn’t it enough that you and your boyfriend used condoms and Jackson had already gone past that?

“Just— just don’t,” you begged again, shut up with a firm hand over your mouth suddenly as he grunted lowly above you with each thrust.

“Fuck,” he said, a sort of warning though it wasn’t specific.  “Fuck!”

He bit his lip when it happened; you shut your eyes, not wanting to see his face all slack and flushed like that with his hair falling forward and his neck and jaw flexing.  But closing your eyes only made the feeling inside you more undeniable: the rush of warmth, the flexing against your walls as he pushed himself in as deep as he could.  You whimpered a little, though you weren’t sure it was audible to anyone but yourself, and Jackson sighed as he emptied himself into you.

He took his hand away with a deep breath, and all you did was let your mouth fall open and your eyes blink numbly— what else was there to do?

As he caught his breath, he laughed a little, very softly; he put his hands on the floor beside your head, propping himself up but letting his head hang down loosely for a second— he was still smiling.

“You’re… you’re really something else, you know that, babydoll?” he informed you.

You didn’t say anything, and he sighed again just before he pulled out— you both winced, for different reasons, and he took a moment to hold your legs open so he could look at what he’d done to you; you felt filthy and exposed like that, but you were too weak to try to stop him or even to close your legs.

“Now that’s just beautiful,” he decided in reaction to whatever he saw; you didn’t want to picture it, how stretched out and used up you must look, but you could feel his come oozing out, running down.

Some of the numbness was already wearing off, at least physically, and you were beginning to realize how purely un-ergonomic it was to get fucked on the floor.  Your back and shoulders were sore, your legs were tight when you finally got to lay them down again after being held up for so long… you tried not to imagine how long you’d be feeling the effects of this, wearing bruises and feeling knots and having to know exactly where they came from.

“Come on,” he mumbled as he lifted up your limp upper body, pulling you closer to him.  He held your face for a second, petting your cheek which was still a bit clammy with sweat.  “Kiss me,” he demanded, though he said it somewhat softly; you didn’t actually sit up and do it for him, but you let him press his lips to yours and you tried your best to half-heartedly mirror his movements as he did it.

He held your head and neck more firmly and slid his tongue into the kiss, making you whimper a little but that was the end of your protest.  You thought it was a little strange that he wanted to kiss you now, but maybe it was just a matter of claiming you in the final way since he’d pretty much covered all the others.

When he broke away, he brushed his thumb over your cheek and smiled at you sweetly.  

It’s over, you told yourself, hoping to feel more relieved.  It’s over, he’s finally done with you.  You did it.  It’s over.  But as those words repeated in your mind, you only felt emptier than ever.

“Look at your boy over there,” Jackson mumbled beside your ear, a smirk on his lips as he shook you a bit with the arm around you.  “You see it, don’t you?  He looks different now.”

You dared to glance at your captive boyfriend, who you realized you hadn’t heard muffled protests from in quite some time.  His eyes were bloodshot and swollen, but dark, too; his stare was heavy and piercing.  You suddenly felt sick.

“He looks at you different now.”

You bit down on your lip as it started to shake; you felt worse than ever with him looking at you like that.  Things hadn’t been perfect before he left— nothing’s ever perfect— but they were good, and easy, and now you felt like he hated you.  But what had you done wrong?  All you’d done was try to keep him unharmed by appeasing this awful, horrible person… 

Jackson had already been speaking quietly, but he dropped his voice down to whisper as he rubbed your shoulder.  “I don’t think he’ll look at you the same way ever again,” he posited, and you swallowed as your stomach dropped.  

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered under your breath.

“He’s never seen you like that before,” Jackson explained, “and he understands now that he can’t do for you what I can.”

Jackson brought his hand to his own chest as he said that, but then reached up to wipe up another tear that rolled down your cheek.  “Please,” you said, looking at your boyfriend though he wouldn’t meet your gaze, “don’t— don’t think that I— it’s not my fault!  I didn’t want this to happen!”

“Shh, you don’t have to lie anymore,” Jackson cooed at you, “we’ve all seen the truth now, it’s alright.”

You were exhausted, you were devastated, you were too overwhelmed to even feel terrified anymore; you dropped your head onto Jackson’s shoulder defeatedly.  After all you’d been through tonight, you were starting to lose track of what was real anymore.

He let you cry quietly against him for a while, petting your head, until finally breaking the silence.  “Now, the thing is, there’s actually just… one more thing I need you to do for me,” he admitted, and you started to cry harder again.

“Please— please, I did everything you asked,” you sputtered out through your tears, “you took.  Everything. From me.”

“Hold on, that’s not true,” he frowned, “you’ve still got your cuck boyfriend over there, even if he’s not quite what he used to be— you still love him, don’t you?  Can’t help that?”

“O-of course I do,” you insisted, feeling oddly guilty as you said it.

“So, you don’t want me to hurt him?” 

Even if this was the end— even if he would hold what was done to you against you, which would break your heart— you couldn’t have that on your conscience.  You shook your head.

“I didn’t think so,” Jackson nodded, “you’re too sweet for that.  I won’t hurt him, and I’ll let him go, if you promise to do what I ask you to.”

“What more… what more could you possibly want…” you breathed, shaking your head, trying not to imagine what else there was for him to do to you.

“Something a lot less fun than what I wanted before,” he smirked.  “What I need from you now is purely work-related.”

You wrinkled your brows together with a sniffle as you began to slowly compose yourself.  “Work…?”

“Let me tell you a little bit more about what I do for a living…”

#jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner smut #jackson rippner dark fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #red eye fanfic

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Did Leon change or did he stay the same?

A character analysis by me because it’s 1AM and I can’t sleep.

I’d like to think Leon goes through an identity crisis throughout the course of RE4R and after RE2R.

Everywhere he went, he’s been told that he has stayed the same even though he believes he’s changed. This got me thinking two things about his character.

A) He’s not as self aware as he thinks he is. To him, maybe he’s changed because he’s had to go drastic changes in order to become the agent he is now. The extensive work that was put on him as well as the pressure to perform well probably made him believe he was not the same man he once was. He probably feels as if a part of his humanity was ripped away. We actually see his monologue in Vendetta where he states that when he was younger, he’s always wondered about what type of man he’d grow up to be. And to realize that the version of himself, the “future” version, is probably something that he wished he didn’t have to be. He wished things were different, he wished he was different.

B) A lot of people underestimate him and his sensibility. Leon is someone who’s always known what’s just. One of his prominent characteristics is probably a strong sense of justice and humanity. He’s the type of person that would save everyone even if it meant he’d have to sacrifice himself. He’s a very noble person and most people see this as a weakness, hence why Krauser thinks he’s too “soft” for the job. But I think otherwise, I think it’s a good thing that Leon is the way he is simply because he’s still holding on to a part of himself that he refuses to give up. It’s what makes him a good person despite his bloodied hands. He’s saved countless people but he’s also killed many to save others.

After being confronted by Ada and Krauser, I’d like to think he’s doubting himself.

“Have I really not changed?”

“What about rookie me?”

“Who was I before?”

But maybe there’s another reason. He hasn’t talked to Ada in six years and he hasn’t seen Krauser since Op. Javier. So that means it’s been a long time since he’s seen both. Maybe Ada and Krauser refuse to acknowledge that Leon did in fact change and want to keep a small fragment of what Leon was prior to their meetup in RE4R. Not because they underestimate him but because Leon is a symbol of what is right. Hence why Ada didn’t give Wesker the Amber and why Krauser was so willing to die at the hands of Leon.

Leon’s character is a complex character that is heavily influenced by others around him. But that doesn’t mean he’s letting himself be used as a carpet. I’d like to think that the cop inside him didn’t in fact die, instead it grew. Why does he keep pushing through even though he says he doesn’t want to keep fighting? It’s not just the government forcing him, it’s the cop Leon that’s telling him to do what’s right for the innocent lives that could be at stake.

Leon is a good man.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #re2 leon #re leon #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #re2r leon #re4r leon #re4 leon #resident evil leon #leon #leon kennedy headcanons #leonstoenailunderhisbed

[layla4567]

Until we meet again

Mihawk x Fem!reader

Part 2

Summary: You make a living as a thief, stealing for your own benefit and working alone. One day you will cross paths with Mihawk and they will declare themselves bitter enemies.

Warnings: Enemies to lovers trope, not proofread, very poor conection to op universe, canon divergence, the reader makes judgmental comments towards men, mention of blood and and injurie

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is purely and exclusively inspired by the Puss in Boots movie, why? I don't know, don't ask me because I don't have a clear answer lol

You were squatting at the top of a terrace hidden behind a tower, from up there you could see your objective with shining eyes. You smiled and raised your scarf until it covered your nose and mouth completely. You slowly slid across the roof while adjusting the front laces of your black cape where you wore your pirate look underneath it.

Discretion had always been your greatest strength and you always had to go unnoticed if you wanted to achieve everything you set out to do. The life of a pirate thief has its rewards: adrenaline, treasures, etc. But also its cons, many people were after you, especially the government, there were even posters searching for you and capturing you, luckily no one knew who you were since you always wore your cape and your scarf, plus the added bonus that your hair was hidden in your hat.

You always used to say that if you wanted to do a job well done you had to do it alone, that's why you didn't have a crew or assistants or anything and even less men, you felt like you couldn't trust anyone. Do you remember the afternoons at your mother's house always saying the same silly saying: "Actually Columbus's wife was the one who discovered America, because the man couldn't even find his shoes." You laughed softly, repeating her words in a low voice, in the end she was right, men are useless, you discovered that when your father abandoned you both.

You approached the ledge of a balcony with your entire body against the wall and hidden behind some tall palm trees but without losing sight of your objective. Near a market a sailor had poorly stored a devil fruit that he had found. You had followed him closely to see what he would do with it, the middle-aged man looked everywhere nervous of being discovered while he put the fruit in a wooden box and covered it with a worn blanket. The poor fool didn't know that a shadow was lurking from above ready to attack, that fruit had to be yours no matter what. Smiling under your scarf, you were about to go ashore when you saw something that left you frozen. A tall individual dressed in a cape and a wide hat with feathers was approaching with long, slow steps towards where the fruit was blocking your objective. The man didn't seem to realize that a devil fruit was hidden there, he just looked around indifferently. Shit, you thought. Surely the government had sent him to capture you and now he was looking for you, although luckily he had not seen you yet.

Cursing quietly, you climbed back up to the roof without losing sight of him and went down the back, hiding in some leafy bushes, analyzing each of his movements as you slowly approached the stand where the hidden fruit was. You had heard about him before, if you didn't they would say you lived under a rock. Mihawk known as the lord of war was the most popular and skilled swordsman, everyone was afraid and respected him but you didn't care, you were also quite good at your job and until now you had not been discovered, the only thing you had fear is that he would discover your plans or that he would discover you. Now Dracule had his back turned and only his long cloak and wide-brimmed black hat were visible. You crept even closer stealthily like a cat while still hiding behind bushes or barrels without being seen.

You kept drilling Mihawk's back with your eyes so as not to lose sight of him. He seemed to sigh boredly as he looked into the distance. When you were close enough to the crate and the sailor was out of sight, you removed the dirty blanket, uncovering the fruit, and were about to grab it when the sound of a sword being drawn and hitting the edge of the fruit crate near your hands as a warning to you. you stopped When you looked up in surprise you found Mihawk's amber eyes boring into yours.

"I could feel your gaze on my neck, although I thought it was an annoying mosquito"- The man said, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You looked at him furiously, feeling your blood boil, you were always careful with all your movements, but apparently this Mihawk guy was not a fool at all. Had you underestimated men, perhaps, this one? Slowly growling, you moved your body away from the fruit with your hands up even while crouching.

"Very well, what you will do now is withdraw without tricks"

You pretended to bow your head in defeat but with a quick movement you took your hand behind your back and unsheathed the sword that you had hidden under your tunic. With a blow you decided to attack Mihawk but he already saw this coming and simply clashed his sword against yours to avoid the blow to his chest. He looked at your saber and laughed lightly, your sword compared to his was smaller (or rather his was abnormally larger than any other). He raised an eyebrow again, visibly amused by your attitude, not many dared to challenge him but he delighted in the few people who had the courage (or stupidity) to fight him.

"So the little brat knows how to defend himself, interesting"

His peaceful attitude in contrast to yours made you more furious than you already were, he prevented you from taking the fruit but when you attacked he barely defended himself? Was he doing it out of boredom? Gritting your teeth, you attacked again, putting your foot forward and extending your arm, but Mihawk dodged your blow and you clashed your sword with his again. Several attacks followed where he only defended himself and never started the attacks as if he knew he already had the battle won before he even started. Your body was almost shaking with rage and your breathing accelerated while he remained calm as if it were child's play. Bastard. You wanted to shout at him to attack and not be a coward but you restrained yourself and started running to buy time.

"Do you want to play cat and mouse then? As you wish"- He sighed

You ran trying not to burn all your energy so quickly, you avoided boxes by jumping over them and you passed between people without touching them as if you were as thin as a noodle. You felt like you were already quite far from your pursuer so you smiled satisfied and turned your head back. And that was a mistake. Shocked you saw that Dracule Mihawk was hot on your heels, it didn't seem like he was running but rather he was flying. You began to run faster and turned a corner of a house and climbed the balcony to reach the roof just when he hit the heel of your shoe with his sword, although without hurting you. Without looking down you ran along the roofs of the houses and jumping over the tiles while he followed you below and did not lose sight of you.

It was a wild chase where your strength already seemed to begin to abandon you slightly while his was still intact. Feeling your thighs burning, you jumped onto another roof further away and fell with a somersault to get back on your feet and go down a ladder and continue along another path. This time it seemed that Mihawk had given up and had not followed you, you laughed satisfied looking back as you continued running but suddenly something large collided with you and with a groan you fell to the ground while the tip of a sword was pointed at you. You raised your head and saw the tall man with yellow eyes staring at you with one corner of his lips turned up slightly.

"The game is over little mouse, the cat won"

You were not one to give up easily, so with your sword still in your hand, you took his sword out of your sight and jumped up, pushing him and running towards the only exit that he was covering with his back, preventing your escape route. Mihawk was just as fast and grabbed your wrist firmly to spin you around on your trunk and pull you towards him like it was a dangerous dance. You collided with his bare chest with a loud noise, you tried to get out of his grip by twisting like a worm but he wouldn't let you go. Being so close to him you could feel the heat emanating from his skin and you could hear his heartbeat which was fast, apparently the race had tired him out.

"I told you, you should have given up when you had the chance."

"And what are you going to do now, huh?"- You spat angrily, forcing a grave and deep voice to preserve your identity.

"Mmh" -He pretended to think- "What I do with you now is none of your business, in fact it's not even my business."

You didn't want to hear him talk anymore so you stomped his foot hard with your heel. Mihawk growled and let go of you as he bent forward slightly and closed his eyes. He didn't seem as calm as before and his muscles tensed a little. You walked away from him and shouted in a deep voice.

"You work for the government right? They sent you to capture me?!"

Dracule stood up straight and regained his composure. "Oh I just took this little job because I wanted some entertainment. I didn't even know why they were so obsessed with you although after seeing you in action I think I can understand it.."

He seemed amused by the situation, he kept looking at you with those hawk eyes that seemed to hide mischief and mockery towards you. It was more than you could tolerate and you moved your sword again to hurt him but he simply with a quick movement of his wrist not only pushed your sword away but also made a cut on your cheek. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt the itch of the wound on your cheek and fell to the ground in surprise. The force of the blow caused your hat to fall forward and some strands of long hair could be seen. You had your back towards the swordsman so he couldn't see you well yet. You took off your handkerchief to touch the wound with a grimace of pain, seeing your fingers were stained with blood.

"Enough. You're wearing out my patience."

You stood up slowly in pain and grunting but this time with your normal voice which surprised Mihawk a little since it sounded slightly higher pitched. When you stood up completely your hair fell completely behind you and he frowned. You turned around to face him angrily, now your scarf was no longer covering your face and the man could see that you were clearly a woman.

"Well, well" -He said low, looking at you from top to bottom- "This is a pleasant surprise"

Mihawk closed the distance between him and you with his long, slow steps while you tried to walk away but seemed rooted to the ground. Dracule was a few centimeters close to you and since he was incredibly taller than you his face was slightly downward. You avoided eye contact but you still perceived his yellow eyes traveling over your face as if it were the first time he had seen a woman. Suddenly Mihawk's soft fingers traveled to your jaw and slid under your chin to lift it up and force you to look at him. His threatening, yellow eyes burned your retinas and you felt intimidated. The man let out a low laugh.

"You have guts ma'am. I didn't expect to find an opponent as good as you."

You closed your fingers around Dracule's wrist and moved it away, closing your eyes, trying not to look at him, but his amber eyes were still in your head. Remembering the reckless woman you were, you challenged him by raising your chin.

"So? I asked you what you were going to do with me now, Dracule Mihawk."

The tall man narrowed his eyes slightly upon hearing her full name. He went from your lips to your eyes analyzing you. He would never admit it but deep inside he was greatly amused by your cheeky attitude and how you had dared to face him.

"You know what? I'll set you free. And you better hurry because they're probably coming."

You opened your eyes and were speechless as your lips parted slightly. You expected him to hand you over to the authorities, even stab you, anything but that. Was Mihawk going soft…for a woman? Seeing you frozen and unable to speak, Mihawk raised an eyebrow and smiled a small smile that seemed almost invisible.

"Didn't you hear me? Go now, if you value your life."

Mihawk turned around adjusting his hat and putting his sword back away as he climbed the ladder you had used to get down there. You shook your head and regained movement. You bent down to grab your hat and put it on while you covered your face with your scarf and walked away at fast steps trying to find another hiding place and then run away. Before losing sight of you, Mihawk turned his head with a look of satisfaction towards where you had fled to see you for the last time… or not.

I'll definitely do a part two, when? I don't know but I will do it (I will try)

#female reader #one shot #imagine #fem reader #x fem reader #badass fem reader #opla #one piece netflix #one piece live action #opla mihawk #dracule mihawk #thief female reader #pirates #pirate fem reader #one piece mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk one piece #mihawk opla #mihawk x fem reader

[renren-006]

Promises | Ethan Hunt x Reader

summery:  international spy romance. “Promis me”

warning: violence, fluff, action

word count: 1337

a/n: so i saw the new Mission impossible movie and it made me realize that i need to post about Ethan Hunt! I have loved those movies since i was a kid and have been obsessed with them! so let me know if anyone wants any more Ethan Hunt stories!!! 

You were an IMF agent, just like Ethan Hunt. You were a few years behind him experience wise, but you were the best there was at hand to hand combat. You already knew martial arts before you went into the academy and were leagues ahead of some of your other classmates who soon dropped out and were back on the run. Most of the IMF agents you knew were there for crimes their countries would let go of if they accepted, so here you were with a few small misdemeanors training to be a ghost and save the world if it needed it. 

The first time you worked with Ethan it was in another country, trying to find an arms dealer who was trying to enact a war in Europe. You were scheduled to arrive behind the other team already there so when you showed up and met Ethan, Luthor and another guy, you knew tensions would be high. Ethan was your leader, and soon you knew you would follow him into anything if he asked you too. The arms dealer ended up in MI6 hands after the case was finished and his wrong doings and weapons were sent off to be evaluated and locked up. 

You followed Luthor onto a few other cases after that, still a low ranking IMF agent that they couldn't put you out in the field with anything big just yet. Soon, the worried of climbing the ranks would come with knowing that you were involved in a relationship with another high ranking and known rouge operative. 

*Few Years later*

“Ethan” you said breathlessly as you were pushed up against a wall of a broom closet at the headquarters of IMF. You were off duty but in house because you were following small leads for a bigger case. Ethan was there for a debriefing and the two of you bumped into one another. This relationship between the two of you started a few years back after a case with the two of you. A small injury on you left Ethan with worries and soon a heated make out as the two of you expressed the building tension between you. While you were younger than Ethan, the two of you didn't care. Both of you also didn't care about the rules about having relationships with other agents. 

“Y/N” Ethan responded as he kissed your neck. “What's the problem hun?” 

“I am not doing this in a broom closet Ethan, and on IMF floors” you stated trying to get the man of you. He looked disappointed. “Ethan” you said with power, hoping he would listen and not make your already horny mind, let you be defiled on IMF floors. 

“Fine, no I understand, later then?” he asked, moving on to hope for another chance to see you. 

“Yes, later” you told him after buttoning up your shirt and kissing him on the cheek and leaving him in that closet alone to get back to the work you know you have to do. 

Soon later would be you Ethan, Luthor and another female agent on the road to deal with another problem the government needed you to handle. There was a kidnapping of a known daughter of one of the world's biggest, and your job was to save her, kill the people and erase their hard drives. So as you made your way to a shutdown mill in Nevada, you had a feeling something bad was going to happen. Ethan was busy working on a plan with Luthor and the other girl was reading over some information on the layout of the mill. You decided to step out of the little house you were stationed up in to get some air. You were older now, more experienced and a higher rank, and still you felt like a small kid when these sort of cases come up. You get scared and you shut down. Ethan followed you out of the house.

“Y/N what's wrong?” He asked you for a hand on your arm. 

“Im…scared something bad is going to happen in that mill”

“To the girl?” He asked, wondering that same question himself. Of course you were worried about the girl they had but for right now, you were more worried about the man next to you. He had a thing for running into danger and you wanted to keep him out of that when the plan was initiated. 

“No, to one of us” You said, turning finally to look at him. “Ethan I've known you for years, I've worked with you. Every-time i'm scared something is going to happen to you and I won't be there to save you”

“It's not your job to save me,” Ethan said, putting both hands on my arms, keeping me there to look at him.

“No, but it is my job to make sure everyone gets out alive.” You told him, “whether it is written or not I have a job to get in and out, no one is dead or dying and I can't help but feel like that will happen. I can't lose you”

“I can't lose you either” Ethan told you, pulling you in for a hug and hoping you would understand that he had very strong feelings for you. 

“Promise me you'll leave then. Promise me if i tell you to go, you'll go” You were desperate to keep him alive one mission longer.

“Yes, I promise” he said and you nodded your head, brushed him off and went back in the house to get ready for the mission. 

The mission started out smoothly. Only having a few bumps getting in and finding the girl, but with Luthor in your ear guiding you and the others you knew you would get there. The other girl, Smith, was detouring to there coms and other information rooms and blowing up their software, while you and Ethan went for the girl. When you find her, you make quick work of the men in the room but not fast enough that one pulls the alarm. You knew you only had minutes and the state the daughter was in you knew one of you would stay to get the others off you, and it had to be you. 

“Go” you yelled as you made it down the hallway. The men were gaining down the hallway, bullets going everywhere. You stopped by the door turning back around two guns in your hand. “Go, and you better be alive when I see you again,” you yelled. Ethan stopped. 

“No, I am not leaving you” Ethan shouted. 

“And you promised. Go” you told him turning back, seeing the daughter trying to stay alive, “get her help”

“I love you” Ethan said to you, as you both ducked from bullets.

“I love you, that's why I need you to go” and before he left a swift kiss to your lips gives you the strength to protect him and the girl out of the building. Of course you didn't leave with them, having to take them all down and leaving you with two hand battens and a couple of bigger guys.

You walked out of the building, a limp in one leg, a stab wound in your side and a few bruises. You didn't know if you wanted to throw up or pass out. Before you could a figure came at you picking you up and placing you in the truck that appeared beside you. Before you could register who it was you were out. 

The hospital bed was not as comfortable as you would have hopped, or maybe it was just the all body pain you were in. Ethan sat up to your right. 

“Told you I’d stay alive” he said, “What I should have done was make you promise not to sacrifice yourself for me”

“Good thing I didn't,” you said looking at him. “I'll do it again if I have to” “I know you will,” Ethan said kissing your hand.

#ethan #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt #mission impossible #mission: impossible #Mission impossiple ghost protocal #ethan hunt x female reader

[sumaneun-stars]

'Five Minutes More'

Pairing. idol!bf!Jay x Fem!stylist!reader

Genre. Established relationship, fluff

Warnings.none!

Sypnosis. Nothing but cuddles with your boyfriend, Jay, after being apart from him for months.

You sat down on the couch after unpacking your stuff, being a stylist for an idol group was no joke. Txt had come back from their tour, and you, being one of the staff, had to follow them. You loved traveling around the world and you loved your job, but the only problem was that you hated being away from Jay.

Long distance was difficult, but both of your love for each other was strong. Jay would call you every night during the tour, and you would talk until one of you fell asleep. Yesterday you arrived home and the entire Enhypen had waited up late for you. They truly were your only family.

When you woke up, Jay had sent a text saying they had left to film their En o'clock episode. Plugging your ears with music, you started to clean up the place. Living with 7 boys was not easy. After cleaning and showering, you heard the front door open and a series of groaning.

“I’m so sleepy,” Heeseung whined.

“Hey guys, how was it?” you chuckled at them and waited for Jay.

“Fun but tiring. We were out in the sun the whole time Noona” niki said as he side hugged you, the others agreeing along. 

“Awh, get some sleep guys. Also- where's Jay?”  

“Ah one elevator broke down, so we took the other. And with the staff, Jay didn't have space”  Jake said sadly. 

“So what happened?” you asked, worried

“He took the stairs,” he replied.

“What? Oh my god… that’s 9 staircases, I’ll go get him” 

Before Jake could protest, you ran to your bedroom to get your shoes. The moment you came  out, Jay walked through the front door.   

“Ugh Y/n, I’m so tired” Jay walked towards you and hugged you.

“I heard what happened, take a shower and rest, darling” you kissed the side of his head. Jay nodded and went to shower- but not without returning the kiss. 

Jay found you lying on the couch with your back straight up. Your eyebrows were scrunched together as you tried to zoom into a picture on your phone. You looked so adorable to him, Jay just wanted to squeeze your cheeks.

You didn't notice when Jay crawled his way in between your legs and cuddled into your chest. It  startled you, but when you saw his comfortable figure, you relaxed. You adjusted to a more comfortable position and Jay followed. You ran your fingers and played with his hair, and Jay hummed to the feeling. He would groan in satisfaction when you massaged his head and shoulders, making you chuckle.

Jay was at peace. Your body warmth spreading through him was like home. Your steady heartbeat echoing in his ear was the best rhythm he had ever listened to, and you massaging his head was the cherry on top. Ever since you came back from your tour with txt, all he wanted to do was have you to himself. The time difference killed him internally. He hated that you were so far away from him. Some nights he would jerk off the frustration.

“You smell like my shower gel” Jay inhaled and spoke into your chest. 

“Mhm sharing is caring” you said playfully.

“Is that so, Ms. y/l/n?“ Jay raised his head to look at you.

“Ooh, my government name” 

“ You little-” Jay said as he tickled you from under your t-shirt.

“O-okay okay- st-stop” you tried to speak in between the giggles.

Jay laughed and settled once again on your chest, kissing your collarbone in the process. His hands soothingly stroked your sides under your t-shirt. Your fingers automatically continued to play with his hair. Soon Jay fell asleep, the both of you stayed like that for the entire evening.

You didn’t mind Jay sleeping on you, you knew he needed the rest. You were casually reading on your phone when you realized the time was 6 pm. You knew that if you didn’t wake Jay up now, he wouldn’t sleep at night.

When you looked down at his sleeping figure, your heart melted. You didn't want to wake him up but you had to. Gently massaging his head, you sat up a little.

“Hmm… no…” Jay mumbled in his sleep. He looked like a child being woken up for school.

“Jay, baby time to get up”

No response.

“Jay…come on, love” you tickled his nose this time. Jay buried his head in your chest.

“Mmm 5 more minutes” his arms tightened around your waist. He nuzzled his nose on your right breast and turned his head to the other side. 

He said this every morning and you knew he would wake up 20 minutes later. Waking Jay up in the morning was like waking a bear from hibernation. 

“Baby, you said that 5 minutes ago” you lied in an attempt to wake him up.

“Then 10 minutes” he replied. You chuckled at his response.

Jay groaned when you sat up completely, and leaned his head on your shoulder when he sat up. 

“Come on darling, you won’t be able to sleep in the night” you caressed his cheek.

“Isn’t that a good thing for the both of us?” he raised his eyebrow playfully as he looked up at you. You wanted to laugh at his sleepy face trying to flirt.

“No” 

“Yes” he moved closer to your face

You pecked his nose and Jay groaned in defeat.

“Hungry~” heeseung said as he walked out of his room half asleep, making his way to the kitchen.

“Go wash up love, I'll start on dinner” you ruffled Jay’s hair and got up but Jay pulled your arm and hugged you.

“Jongseong,” you chuckled.

“I love it when you call me that,” he said in a raspy voice. Jay buried his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hand sneak under your leg. He brought your thighs and wrapped it around his waist, making you sit right on his now hard crotch. He inhaled your scent as his hands traveled under your shirt, tracing circles on your lower back.

“Jay-” your breath hitched.

“5 more minutes”

End. 

a/n: missed me? kjhsfhlg still on hiatus but this is just another drabble:>

#enhypen #enha scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen jay #enhypen drabbles #enha #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #jay scenarios #enhypen scenarios #enhypen comfort #enha imagines #enha jay #enha oneshots

[livwritesstuff]

Absolutely obsessed with your steddie dad’s verse!!! Everything about it is just so good, thanks for sharing!

I love Moe, Robbie and Hazel, and I can’t get this idea out of my head that probably doesn’t fit the vision of this verse at ALL but hear me out. What if one day all the upside down stuff became public knowledge? Somehow documents get leaked, someone talks, idk. And it’s suddenly all over the news. Would be so interesting to see how Steve and Eddie would react to this and how they’d talk to their kids (who just found out about their parents saving the world from the news) about it 👀

So here’s the thing:

Realistically, I don’t think the story would ever get fully leaked, for two reasons (probably more, actually, but two primary reasons).

It makes the U.S. government look terrible, and they do a good enough job of that publically to afford any more hits to their rep so they keep that shit on lock

Nobody would believe it. Maybe there are whispers about the truth of what happened to Hawkins, Indiana in the 80s, but the second the words “monsters” and “superpowers” get thrown in there, nobody buys it. That’s why the cover stories work.

What I absolutely think would happen is ✨conspiracy theories✨

Like, come 2014 there’s a rising interest in true crime and conspiracy theories and some enthusiasts stumble upon the story. A few devoted folks pull a Murray and start building a timeline and they quickly realize that there are some pretty serious holes in the narrative. It kind of takes off from there.

Robbie is Eddie’s daughter through and through, so she’s totally into that kind of stuff. Steve and Eddie have always been relatively upfront about what happened to them in Hawkins (relatively, in that they have the “here’s what you’ll find if you google your dads” conversation with an extensive Q+A, but to avoid dumping trauma on their kids they stay light on the details), so she’s more intrigued than surprised when not only is she suggested a YouTube video about her dads’ hometown, but the video also mentions both of them by name.

Here’s the problem – like most conspiracy theories, it's true that some pretty damning evidence has been uncovered that the government probably didn’t want circulating. However the story is still missing key details in a way that makes the resounding conclusion this close to the truth, but not quite there.

Hence, this conversation Robbie has with her dads after she watches the video:

“So is it true that Uncle Will was abducted by aliens?”

Steve’s eyebrows fly up.

“Are people saying it’s aliens? It wasn’t aliens.”

“Was he though?”

“Uh…kind of. I guess.”

“Is it true the government put a fake body in the lake and pretended it was him and then when Will came back they had to pretend it was another kid?”

“Yep.”

“That’s fucked up. Is it true that Russia used a mall in Hawkins to build a secret lab?” Robbie asks.

“Yes.”

“Is it true they were doing research on the aliens and then one of them escaped and that’s why the mall got destroyed.”

“Not even close.”

“How did the mall get destroyed then?”

“Bunch of people got possessed by a shadow monster and he made them eat chemicals until they exploded and reformed as this giant mass thing that cornered us in the mall. We attacked it with fireworks. I wasn’t there for most of that, though. Just the end.”

“Whatever,” Robbie rolls her eyes, fully convinced that her dad is bullshitting her, “Is it true the Hawkins earthquakes were actually the aliens invading.”

“No – yes…kind of? Not earthquakes. Not aliens.”

“I mean…technically they kind of were aliens ,” Eddie jumps in, “Technically anything from a land foreign to yours is an alien.”

“They weren’t aliens,” Steve insists, “They were monsters. They were big and gray and their faces opened up and they had all these rows of teeth like sharks.”

“Sounds like an alien to me,” Robbie replies.

“Monsters.”

“Is it true Dad was attacked by them and he almost died and you saved him, Pop?”

“Yes, indeed,” Eddie says proudly before Steve can respond, “He’s quite the hero, don’t you think?”

“In space?”

“Nope. In an evil alternate dimension, and he dragged me all the way out through the portal and everything.”

Robbie rolls her eyes again, “Nevermind, you guys are useless. You’d think you weren’t even there.”

Steve sighs, “God, I wish that were true.”

In terms of how Steve and Eddie respond to the story gaining some attention from the general public, they do family viewings of the conspiracy videos made about the situation and make fun of the incorrect narratives. Their daughters fully do not grasp that their dads are telling the truth because, again, the truth does not seem real.

#*john mulaney voice* eh none of us really know our fathers #i could say so much more about this but i didn’t want this post to get bogged down sooo #lmk if you want more I guess #fun fact: my *redacted relative* worked on the Isabella Stewart Gardener robbery case #which i didn’t know until i watched the buzzfeed unsolved video about it and saw a picture of them #so in other words…this could totally play out like this #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

[one-idea]

Tbh I'm with Zoro re:Nika v Luffy. Luffy is full of love for the world and adventure, almost as much as he loves his friends. Nika willingly staying separate from the world Luffy adores so much is a HUGE red flag that It's No Longer Luffy In The Driver's Seat. They're probably very, very similar, but would it be enough for the Straw Hats? I imagine it would be for some of them, but besides King of Hell over there I think Jimbei and maybe Brook would notice the difference and care.

I’m assuming this is for the madoka magica au. (My beloved)

And you’re completely right.

Luffy under normal circumstances would never leave the crew. He loves them and the world and adventure, why would he ever leave? He doesn’t remember the situation that lead to him fully becoming Nika in the first place so he doesn’t understand Nika’s incessant calling to leave this world behind.

As for the rest of the crew….

When Zoro fully became Asura and rewrote the universe, he also took the crew’s memories of the world without Luffy.

They have no clue the current reality is different. There are moments where awareness slips in. Where they go “something here isn’t right?” But they are all together and happy so it’s not that big of a deal. The moments are easy enough to sweep under the rug.

I think if any of the crew did remember the reality without Luffy they would agree with Zoro’s decision. They don’t know that Nika had made a plain of existence just for them. That they would reunite with Nika after death. For them Luffy was gone and he was eternally alone. They would agree with Zoro’s decision because of the information they had.

Jimbei and Brook probably have more “this isn’t right” moments than the others because they have been around longer. Their age and experience tipping them off more. Robin probably realizes it as well but I wouldn’t put it past her to put all the pieces together and agree with Zoro’s actions. The crew was willing to fight the world government for her, she to would rip apart reality for her captain.

No the problem is Ace

Ace who remembers it all. Zoro tries to block it out but Ace was in Nika’s divine realm. He was privy to information the Strawhats didn’t have. He knew that they would all be together for eternity. And Zoro separating Luffy from Nika could have major consequences.

Ace pulls Zoro a side to tell him this. But it’s Ace and Zoro and they aren’t the best at communicating.

And Ace is also so conflicted because on the one hand Zoro not only divided Luffy’s soul but he also took Luffy’s freedom. It’s a beautiful cage but a gilded cage is still a cage. It was Luffy’s choice to merge with Nika. Zoro is disregarding Luffy’s choice and freedom.

But at the same time how can he be mad. He has both of his brothers back and they are all free, as far as the other two know. Because Luffy has no clue he’s in a cage. He’s completely free to do whatever he wants in this plain of existence. Is it truly freedom if he can’t leave? But is he truly trapped if he doesn’t know about the cage?

Ace’s head hurts. Philosophy was never his thing and he desperately wishes Sabo, Deuce, or Marco were in his place because while Sabo is here he doesn’t remember the old reality either.

So Ace confronts Zoro about it. About how this is going against Luffy’s will. About how this could have consequences they don’t even understand yet.

And Zoro just smirks at him and asks if it’s not a demons job to go against their god?

Ace is immediately on the defensive wanting to know if Zoro will completely disregard Luffy’s wants and decisions from here on out.

Zoro responds with “of course not. He is my captain and I his first mate.” He would do anything Luffy asked him for. But Luffy would never ask him to release him. How could he when Zoro stand between Luffy and anything that could ever make him want to leave again.

Ace threatens to tell Luffy the truth. To which Zoro tells him if he does then that would make them enemies. But he’s not to worried because he knows Ace is having trouble remembering things. He might have failed to fully block Ace’s memories in the first place but the more time Ace spends in this world the more natural it will be. After all this is a new chance for Ace to be human. To be with his brothers. He wouldn’t want to mess that up, would he?

Ace knows all these things. Can feel the memories of before getting hazier. He knows his brothers are happy here and there is no reality where he would try to take their happiness from them. But Luffy’s freedom was taken from him and that he can’t forgive “even if I forget everything else I will always remember that you, Roronoa Zoro, are a demon.”

Zoro just smiles at him and starts to walk back to the others. As he passes Ace he pauses and leaves the freckled man with one final thought. “We should pretend to be on good terms. If you’re always attacking me, Luffy could end up hating you.”

It’s an empty threat, Zoro knows. Knows that Luffy could never hate Ace. But seeing the two of them fighting nonstop would upset Luffy. Zoro has no desire to fight Ace, as long as he stays in line. And he knows exactly what will keep Ace in line.

Because Ace is having a full meltdown down. Could Luffy hate him? He’s in the right! Zoro took Luffy’s freedom. Zoro cut Luffy’s soul in half. Is it wrong for Ace to want to restore Luffy’s soul? To bring back the divine plain? But Luffy loves his crew and adventure. Is his brother better off in this world where he can go on adventures forever with his loved ones. Where he’s not the only one responsible for the safety of the world? Would Luffy hate him for breaking this reality? For fighting with Zoro?

Could Ace survive without Luffy’s love?

It’s a moot point. Luffy will always love Ace. But Ace’s self hate has never been able to understand that.

Here’s the original scene from Madoka Magica for reference

Note. They are both right in their own way. They have different points of view and information the other doesn’t.

Zoro wants Luffy to be with the crew because Luffy hates being alone more than anything. And the crew loves him. Zoro loves him

Ace has knowledge of Nika’s true plan. Knows that Luffy wasn’t going to be alone forever. It would just take time. But he’s horrible at sharing this information.

Ace going to the literal devil who just rewrote the universe to have his way and standing in front of him like “you I have a problem with you and I’m going to fight you.” Like poor boy has a split devil fruit (now shared with Sabo) that’s not even awakened and is staring down the King of hell with no plan or back up. Keep bitting off more then you can chew Ace. Never change.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #straw hat pirates #roronoa zoro #one piece zolu #zolu #fire fist ace #one piece ace #gol d. ace #portagas d. ace #sabo #madoka magica zolu au #Ace is Sayaka. I will take no argument. both are stubborn to a fault and won’t backdown. constantly bitting off more then they can handle. #and it leads to both of their deaths. stop and ask for help you selfless morons #Ace: I’m going to tell Luffy😡 Zoro: but what if I play on you insecurities🤔 #asl brothers

[itsanidiom]

15 DAY BL CHALLENGE - DAY 8

The Trope You Hate Except When It's This Series

I don't tend to like "Soulmates". For example, I wasn't a big fan of the trope as seen in La Pluie and Color Rush. Both definitely are better in that they deal with discussions around the darker side of the trope (ie. the color blind kidnapping their soul mates in Color Rush). But, at the end of the day, the main characters always overcome that and the fated love interests always still get together.

It's not because Soulmates is a bad trope, I think the idea of it just creeps me out. Like there is a person out there FOR YOU, and you are FOR THEM and neither of you could possibly connect with anyone else on the same level even if you had completely different politics/backgrounds/cultures/languages/etc. I actually have some plot bunnies written for a subversion of the trope where like: what if in a dystopian world the government forces soul mates together and there are like programs finding and forcing people together. But enough about my writing I'll get to the point. And the point is...

THE SIGN MADE ME ENJOY IT SO MUCH

I think it's mainly because, in The Sign, they are Karmic Soulmates, and it's not like they live in a universe where everyone has a soulmate. It just so happens that they have this intense connection from their past lives.

I think they also do a great job showing like: but that's not the ONLY reason these two like each other.

That moment Phaya discharges himself from the hospital after he realizes he and Tharn are karmic soulmates is *chef's kiss*.

Like before that: yes, they were in love. But after that it was like: NOT ONLY are they in love they KNOW they are KARMICALLY BOUND TO ONE ANOTHER. I loved that, and it didn't make me feel like they were forced together the whole time. It was definitely my favourite thing and made me rethink my general dislike of the Soulmates trope.

#blchallenge2k24 #hate is a strong word #lol #the sign #the sign the series #la pluie #color rush

[jbaileyfansite]

Interview with People (2023)

Jonathan Bailey could have gone in any direction after his runaway success as the male romantic lead in Bridgerton'ssecond season.

But choosing to play a gay man opposite Matt Bomer in Showtime's Fellow Travelers, another romantic period drama — this one spanning the 1950s Joseph McCarthy communist trials to the 1980s AIDS crisis — was a "no-brainer" for the British actor.

"I had looked for these gay stories, a sweeping gay love story, and I hadn't really seen them," Bailey, 35, tells PEOPLE in this week's issue. "This ticked every single box, and it's something I know I'll be proud of for the rest of my career."

Bailey first grabbed the attention of TV viewers with his breakthrough performance as Anthony Bridgerton, the proud, surly viscount on Shonda Rhimes's sudsy Regency-era drama Bridgerton.

Starring in one of Netflix's most popular shows has been transformative for Bailey, who previously had mostly divided his time between British TV and theater roles.

"Having always waited for auditions and projects to come, I just have that footing now to have choices, which is incredible and so special, because it's not a very common thing," he says. "I have a responsibility therefore not to waste that."

Raised in Benson, England by his father Stuart, a managing director at a honey supplier, and his mother Carole, who worked several jobs to help make ends meet and pay for dance and music lessons for her son and his three older sisters, Bailey found school intimidating.

The actor was 11 when he realized he might be gay, and he sought refuge in his family, the theater and his best friend.

"It's a pretty common story that school is terrifying, especially in a world where people don't understand or the teachers and children don't understand LGBTQ+ identities and experiences," he shares. "But the superpower of being on the outside looking in means that when you're older, you are drawn to storytelling and creatives who are singular and exciting. And I think queer people have a real strength to them, which could be celebrated."

Fellow Travelers certainly celebrates the LGBTQ+ community through its ambitious, decades-long narrative and queer stars. The biggest, most exciting draw for Bailey was his character Tim Laughlin's "expansive arc," evolving from a closeted political staffer in the 1950s to an out-and-proud activist in the 1980s.

"It's explored more, his journey and the expanse of it, more than any other character," Bailey says. "But I think, with Tim, he's constantly searching within himself. He's constantly torn between his identity, the truth about his identity and the stories that he's been told, whether it be by religion, by the government, by his parents or society. So it's thrilling to be able to constantly be torn between two places."

Working alongside Bomer, 46, helped Bailey bring Fellow Travelers to life.

Bomer, who also served as an executive producer on Fellow Travelers, was "a total joy" to work with, recalls Bailey, who meshed well with the White Collar actor right from the start — from their Zoom screen test to their "pregame coffee" five days before they began shooting.

"We both had quite a lot of experience in our careers of intimacy and portraying intimacy, but there's also just so much we've experienced as gay men, as well. So naturally, we had a lot to explore," he says, adding, "To honor the canon of gay storytelling is totally what I set out to do. So if it [Fellow Travelers] is 'up there,' then I'm really happy."

Source

#jonathan bailey #jonny bailey #interviews #interviews:2023 #people interview 2023 #fellow travelers #NEW!

[hrodvitnon]

Additional Novel Stuff! (that the other submitter missed)

Post from Mystical got my attention and so I hunted down the info on Reddit, found the guy who claims to have made the notes originally and he offered more info in a Twitter thread. I would like to urge to take both the notes from earlier and everything I’m about to say here with a grain of salt as the novel isn’t released till the end of April, and to consider this post supplementary to the one made earlier as Mystical seemed to miss the Twitter info. 

The prologue actually opens with Serizawa, Vivienne, Andrews, and Emma meeting in Greenland to discuss some strange properties about some of Earth’s ice. They sample stuff from glaciers, Ghidorah’s prison, and the ice caps, and realize that when the ice was first frozen- the freezing was instant, described like a ‘reverse bomb’. This is also where we get that 3 million number for Shimo’s age as that’s when the earliest instance of this special ice was dated. Shimo is then dubbed as Monster H, standing for Hypothetical, as the only evidence they had of her existence was the weird ice patterns. 

This is actually Andrews’ motivation for joining Monarch, to uncover this weird anomaly. 

When Kong first meets Shimo, he can sense her violent rage towards Skar, but also sees how the crystal controls her. 

There’s additional info during the mural scene where all the history is discussed- including the info that Shimo froze Ghidorah (god it feels so good have this confirmed) and an additional mural of Shimo fighting Godzilla in which Godzilla seemed 'worried’ about something. What he was worried about they don’t say, but I like to think Godzilla could additionally sense that she was being tortured by Skar and that he wanted to help her but didn’t know how- and had to revert to fighting her. Additionally, a note from the Reddit post states that Godzilla was additionally apprehensive about fighting Skar/Shimo. Could be interpreted that he thought he might lose or that he didn’t want to battle Shimo again because of her state. Either way, the characters confirm that the two have some sort of history.

Shimo is not the first Titan. The characters say the mural could be translated to say 'The First, The Foundational, The Ultimate, and/or The Quintessential’. However, I still believe that it is not the case that she is the first because right after this they actually that very same Iwi word to describe Mothra of all Titans. I have no idea what to make of this, crazy interesting that they elevate her to be on Shimo’s level of ancientness or importance. 

Shimo is incredibly strong. Near the end of the book they describe her power as 'world-killing’, and actually describes Evolved-Zilla as being on the backfoot whenever fighting her. 

However, they do confirm she started the Ice Age to balance the Earth’s ecosystem and not out of destructive behavior. 

The bit about the governments of the world plotting to invade Hollow Earth actually revolves around a desire to control Shimo like Skar did, seeing as it was revealed in Rio she can be controlled. (sidenote: this is like, the perfect sequel hook. Operation: Destroy all Monsters, anyone?) This is what that 'end of the world’ note was talking about, a future in which humanity finds a way to control Shimo.

Apparently it’s made clear that Shimo and Godzilla were allies back when Ghidorah was around messing shit up. 

Finally, there’s actually an extension of the post-battle scene where Shimo’s visibly distressed after being freed and Kong comforts her by petting her for a while in the Hollow Earth.

Small tidbit about Scylla not in the thread but mentioned in another tweet: She’s described as loving destruction and that she was actually beginning to warm the planet instead of cooling it, like her job was- so Goji was absolutely justified in dealing that death.

The thread was all about Shimo and has great info- but I honestly can’t wait to see the context surrounding the other notes especially the one about Godzilla and Mothra being family. (Ikik everyone wants this to be a Mothzilla confirmation, but I will be equally interested (maybe even more interested…) to see if they classify them as something else; say found-siblings. I also wanna know if there’s an implication that they grew up together- which would further creates a mountain of questions…). April 23rd is when this thing releases and this info is either confirmed or not.

---

*Serizawa and Vivienne mention* BRB PRE-ORDERING THE NOVELIZATION

Whether any of this delightful information turns out to be true once the book comes out, we Shimo fans are going to be happy with the abundance of lore. Also, YES KONG GIVE HER ALL THE PETS SHE NEEDS IT!

#submission #godzilla x kong: the new empire #gxk spoilers

[precambrian-sea-pancake]

Giving context to things in Shadows of Rose that really needed context because I didn’t like them and they barely got context.

1) The Winter’s separating: it’s very much established they would not willingly separate. Mia loves Rose. There’s no way she’d willingly give up another family member after being widowed. Plus, Chris OF ALL PEOPLE should not want to separate the family. Literally the whole theme was about family. Hot take but there’s 3 of them.

2) Chris saying he would protect Rose and then asking her to join the squad: I refuse to believe Chris would go against his dying friend’s wishes. Putting someone in a fight isn’t protection

3) Rose barely knowing anything about Ethan: I mean…come on. That’s your dead husband and your dead friend who basically made you the godfather. There’s got to be a reason, right?

So…enjoy me fixing all of that by saying things Capcom loves to leave out

———

Mia raised Rose in the beginning when she was a kid, with the help of Chis. They were close. She was very paranoid about her safety and did everything she could to help Rose live a normal life considering they were under even stricter protection than before. Because of this and the fact that Rose would be too young to understand at the time, Mia and Chris were very selective about what was said. They told her things like “your father loved you” “he died protecting you” “he would’ve loved to be here”

The two of them wanted her so do to school because she needed socialization. Unfortunately she had a very hard time. Chris and Mia did their best to be supportive but it was a very tough situation for all of them.

Eventually when she got a little older the higher ups realized how much at risk the Winters were (and also for selfish reasons because Rose powerful. I mean…let us not forget Sherry ;-;), decided it would be best to separate the two to “protect” them. Be it by boarding school, training, etc. It’s kinda unclear but it happened.

Mia hated this. She couldn’t lose Rose but ultimately didn’t have any power over the situation. Chris hated it just as much also tried to prevent this but he too couldn’t change it.

Chis contact with Rose given his job and was the bridge between the two but as time went on things got more complicated and messy.

Eventually Chris got to a point where he wanted Rose by his side more often and to be the one in control instead of the higher ups. So he wanted Rose to join his squad so she could defend herself and not belong to some shitty government thing. At least this way it was easier…at least in Chris’s mind. To him it was protection. Was it the best idea? No, but to him it was.

After the DLC, they learn Ethan is still present in some sort of way. It motivates Chris to try fighting once more for the family to be together again.

Rose remembers everything she saw in the Megamycete’s recreation of her old house and how both of her parents loved her…and sees the mother on the bus reading a book to her kid.

Now both motivated to try again they’re successfully able to get visitation between Rose and Mia.

It starts off slow but eventually it happens more and more. It’s hard because it’s been so long, but they work to reconnect. Since Rose is older and has context, Mia (although very hesitant and needing some encouragement. Plus taking a few meetings for it to even happen) explains their family history to Rose piece by piece until the story is complete.

As for Rose joining the squad?

She joined because she knew her dad fought to help her family. She, like her father, is a kind person. She wants to help protect people and make sure they don’t suffer the same fate as her family. One more good soul to combat a corrupt world. She’s at an awkward age at a very emotional time. Her decisions might not be final but it’s giving it a try. She might stay or she might not. She might like it or she might hate it. Only time and experiences will decide that.

While things aren’t perfect, the Winters are at least together. Just like what Chris tried to do, and just like what Ethan wanted.

———

It’s not perfect, but I tried my best with what was available and worked within the confines of the story. I loved the DLC, but it does have flaws that annoy me. So I fixed it UwU.

#resident evil #shadows of rose #haters dni #they were done dirty but it’s manageable for me #Capcom didn’t elaborate so I did it for them #I’m giving them what they deserve #rosemary winters #mia winters #chris redfield

[fandom-rants]

What’s your opinion about Tony taking Peter along with him to the airport? Of course he did NOT force him or blackmail him, people are literally making shit up to make Tony look bad (because that’s literally all they have, just words without facts) but just in general what do you think?

The way i see it, this is a good, supposed to be safe mission  preparation first mission for him, but people saying he was bad for doing this to peter.

What do you think?

I mean, storyline-wise, it's pretty forced. The MCU high-ups were like, "Spider-Man makes money; let's get him in there!" So. What can you do.

From within, I liked how we were already well past his origin story, and I loved the dynamic between two Nerdy Boys, I thought the thing about Aunt May being young was weird but fine, since I love getting away from tropes and the 'sweet grandma' trope has been beaten to death. I loved Spider-Man as he was written and acted because he was the quintessential silly nerd weirdo who got crazy excited over stuff and nerded out about weaponry and superheroes and everything.

I liked how Tony was explicitly stated to order Peter to stay back and just web them up. I like how both of them were still playing around a little bit; the "Underoos!" thing made it clear Tony wanted Steve to knock it off but never expected a real fight. Even after having Spider-Man take Steve's shield, he still didn't instigate a battle; he just wanted to use Spider-Man as a tool for de-escalation. I was pleasantly surprised, at the time, by Steve being the one to push for a battle, and for his side to end up going WAY too far over and over again, because it proved his imperfections, which I love to see in my superheroes. (I of course abhorred the backtracking in later movies.)

Overall, I thought Tony noticing Peter made sense, since Tony's been leading the Avengers in all but name since the start, no matter what anyone says about Steve, and it makes sense for Tony to be on the lookout for others like himself and the team. It also makes sense that Tony sat on this after learning who Peter was until he found he needed someone to help him get his friends back before the United States government killed them. I wasn't fond of the sudden trip to Germany, but I understood the need for speed and, with the information given about Tony's original plan, I realize he was backed against a wall and making a tough choice.

I loved how, when everything got bad as hell, Tony stopped everything and ran to Peter to order him to stand down and stay out of the fight; I loved how scared he'd been when he'd gotten to Peter's side, because the kid had been in real danger thanks to Steve's team and could have gotten hurt far worse. It is telling to me that Steve was the one to injure Peter, even after learning how young Peter was (there's no way Peter's voice was the voice of an adult, ffs), yet Steve did not ensure Peter was okay. Tony did. Tony was the one to check if the kid was all right and then ensure he stayed out of the increasingly escalating battle.

If the rest of the MCU movies hadn't come out and I hadn't been forced by a bunch of brats on the Internet to endure some of the dumbest bullshit the MCU fandom writes about how sweet angel Steve Rogers did no wrong and evil devil Tony Stark wrought the world asunder, I would actually say that I loved Civil War, for all its faults. Because Steve wanted to be a hero, Tony kept trying to hold everything together, and neither of them did a perfect job but Tony did well and Steve did horribly, and it was about time we got some character depth on Captain America and got to see Tony's merits as a leader, too.

And then. You know. The rest of the movies, and the fandom, and now I want to burn the world to ashes every time someone even mentions MCU Steve Rogers or Civil War to me.

#mcu rant #avengers rant #civil war rant #anti steve rogers #anti fandom #anti fandom stupidity #tl;dr - Spider-Man was done well and his part in the battle was done well #humans are just stupid #long post

[demonsandmischief]

-Chapter 4: The Avengers' Therapist-

Bisexual Female Reader x The Avengers

Rated M for eventual sexual themes

625 Words

My Masterlist for Previous Chapters. Please note disclaimers in Ch. 1.

"Why didn't you tell her she had to complete our final evaluations for our government pardons, Stark?" Steve asked.

"It must have slipped my mind," Tony said absentmindedly, focusing on the wrench he was using.

"You know that's not true," Wanda said. "You would've never hired someone so inexperienced, unless-"

"Fine," Tony said, dropping the tool and straightening his back. "I knew you all would be the difficult, stubborn selves that you always are, and having forced you into some kind of sterile office with a fifty year old experienced therapist, each one of you would resist. You would never pass, and we would have a big mess on our hands."

"You lied to her." Wanda's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I did what I thought was best. There's no harm coming to her. She's starstruck. She'll sign off on your evaluations no problem, not to mention getting a fat paycheck, and the fact that she will never have to worry about getting another job again because she worked for Tony Stark."

"How arrogant can you be," Steve scoffed.

You hadn't meant to eavesdrop, honestly. After Wanda told you that they had to be evaluated for their government pardon, you were going to confront Mr. Stark yourself. Except, Wanda had told Steve, and they both confronted him without you.

You struggled to suck in a breath, hurt beyond belief. You were naive to believe that you got this high end of a job on good performance. There had to be millions of other therapists to choose from, and Tony chose you, to use you.

You hadn't been starstruck. You were trying to give everyone a fair chance. You didn't realize there was an end goal. You just assumed that you were there to be a therapist, a listening ear, to help, not to issue pardons for war crimes. You were no where near qualified for that.

And to think you had been making progress.

Tony could find someone else to do his dirty work.

You blindly stuffed your belongings back into your suitcase as quickly as you could. You couldn't believe you didn't see this coming.

Nat saw it. She accused you of it, and she was right. You were there for resume building.

Beyond the hurt, you were also deeply embarrassed. You were a fool to try to prove yourself to people who could see right through you.

"Woah, where's the fire?" Bucky asked as you nearly ran straight into him.

You wanted to say something to him, but you couldn't.

----

Bucky went straight to Steve, who was looking for you.

"What's going on?" Bucky asked him.

Steve furrowed his brows, "What do you mean?"

"I mean YN just rushed out of here," Bucky frowned. "Did you or someone else say something to her?"

"She left?" Wanda asked, sounding hurt. She wrapped her cardigan protectively over her front. "Without saying goodbye?"

"You're right," Tony said, entering the room. "And I don't say that very often, so make note of that. It was wrong of me to use YN, especially when she had been so kind to all of us. I will take the blame, and tell her myself."

"It's too late for that," Steve said. "She's gone."

"Who's gone?" Nat asked, entering the common space, followed closely by Clint. "Is something wrong?"

"YN. I'm assuming she overheard our conversation with Stark."

Tony sighed. "I know it was really shitty. I was just trying to help all of us."

"You were helping yourself," Wanda retorted.

"I can fix this," Tony said. "Someone just needs to go and talk to her."

"Not somebody," Nat said back, dropping onto the couch. "It needs to be you."

----- AUTHOR'S NOTE----

"Nat's right," Steve said. "She needs to hear it from you."

Here's Chapter 5

I like this chapter. A different perspective.

Updates are MWF

If you want to be tagged, you MUST comment on CHAPTER 1 ONLY.

COMMENT HERE

if you comment on any other parts you won't be tagged. I put a lot of work into layout and editing, tagging is a huge pain and I need to make it easy on myself as the story expands.

If there are 20 chapters, it would take me a million years to review 19 chapters for tags.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk :)

Also, I appreciate all of the love you all have been giving me. I've been writing a lot on Wattpad, and my time here has dwindled. It feels good to be back.

I love requests and I love to chat! It's been pretty lonely over here

Tips, reblogs, likes and comments always make me so happy. ❤️ Thanks for making my blog come alive again.

Tags @inluvwithfictionalwomen @pancakefan7529 @sugarrush-blush @royalmuffinsworld @ichala @cricket-reader @almosttoopizza @wtsseb @ananyar1bughead

#marvel #marvel imagine #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #wanda x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #poly! avengers #avengers imagine #wanda maximoff #angst #bucky barnes

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders #331: Taigong Wang

today on Grailfinders we’re making Jiang Ziya, a.k.a. Jiang Shang, a.k.a. Lu Shang, a.k.a. Master Shangfu, a.k.a. Taikoubou, a.k.a. Taigong Wang. almost as numerous as his aliases are his accomplishments, such as ousting the daji from China, defeating the shang dynasty, and even creating quite a few gods through the power of being a really cool dude.

thankfully his build is slightly less complicated than his biography- he’s a Beast Master Ranger for a shape-shifting mount, and a Drunken Master Monk to blend strategy with a god-slashing whip- and also that cool “step on their head” attack.

check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

next up: it’s like someone stuck Artoria and Siegfried in a conceptual blender

Ancestry & Background

Taigong Wang is a Human, giving him +1 Dexterity and Wisdom, as well as proficiency in Acrobatics. you also get a feat of your choice here, but we’ll talk about that after we go over his background.

we’ve done plenty of tacticians before, but most of those guys weren’t running around with secrets from ancient mage societies, so we’re calling Shangfu a Mage of High Sorcery here, in part because of his investiture and secret magics, and in part because we need this background for a later feat. this gives you proficiency in Arcana and History, as well as the Initiate of High Sorcery feat- we’re grabbing the Lunitari version of the feat for Feather Fall and Longstrider- yes you’re a monk and that makes these spells mostly useless, but you don’t start as one, and multiclassing makes your speed and falling a little weaker than a full monk. you also get the True Strike cantrip to be all tactical and gain advantage on your next melee attack, but after six seconds of thinking you’ll realize the real tactical move was just to attack twice.

that being said it’s called the investiture of the gods for a reason, so we need to get a little godly. coming back around to your human feat, you’re also a Scion of the Outer Planes, specifically the good ones. this gives you resistance to radiant damage (making you an even better pick to fight gods), and you can cast Sacred Flame at will. I don’t think fire is part of your kit, but you’re practically a caster anyway, it’s fine.

Ability Scores

your Wisdom needs to be number 1, that’s how you know clever tactics like “don’t fuck up your government” and “don’t hire people who are bad at their job for your army”. I know it’s easy to clown on that now, but somebody had to figure it out the first time, right? second is Intelligence- if we didn’t need monk stuff and a horse you’d probably be a wizard, but you’re still smart regardless. your Dexterity is also pretty high because you don’t wear armor and use a whip. both of those make me question the “genius tactician” thing a bit, but they clearly work for you. this does mean your Constitution isn’t particularly high, but you don’t need HP if you don’t get hit. your Strength is neutral since we just don’t need it for the build, and we’re dumping Charisma. you’re so untrustworthy Fou gets merlin vibes from you. yikes.

Class Levels

1. Ranger 1: sadly, we need ranger levels first and foremost both to get your whip proficiency and so your background makes sense, but on the plus side at least you can have celestials as your Favored Enemy, giving you advantage to track them down and recall information about them. you put a lot of gods in heaven to begin with, it would be awkward if you forgot their names after all that.

you’re also a Deft Explorer, but before I go into that- you’re proficient with Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as Athletics, Perception, and Insight. the reason I bring this up is because the first part of deft explorer makes you Canny in one skill, such as Insight, doubling your proficiency bonus with it.

2. Ranger 2: second level rangers get a fighting style, and obviously we’re grabbing Duelist for a +2 bonus to one-handed attacks. whips are bad, but now it’s better. slightly.

also, you learn Spells that you cast using your wisdom, like Ensnaring Strike for a sick whip trick, forcing the next person you whip to make a strength save or become restrained for up to a minute. while trapped, they also take damage from the whip digging into them! if you’re worried about wasting damage on a long-term spell like that, you can instead use Hunter’s Mark, adding damage to your whip for up to an hour, plus you have advantage to track the target down if they flee. you also get a chance to move the spell over to another target after the current one dies, so it’s pretty economical!

3. Monk 1: okay, we’ve got the basics of whipping down, let’s get the rest of your fighting style. as a monk you gain Unarmored Defense, adding your wisdom score to your AC as long as you’re not wearing armor or a shield. I don’t care how sick the drip is, it’s not armor.

you also learn some Martial Arts, so now your whole body is a deadly weapon. you can use your dexterity instead of strength to attack with monk weapons or your fists, and if you use your action to attack with the aforementioned weapons you can make an unarmed strike as a bonus action. on top of that, your monk weapons and fists also do a minimum of a d4 of damage, and that amount will only go up as you level up. your whip isn’t a monk weapon yet, but give it a second- besides, it doesn’t gain much from martial arts at the moment anyway.

4. Monk 2: now that the second is up, second level monks can make their whip a Dedicated Weapon, so you can call it a monk weapon all you want after an hour of prep work. you also get Unarmored Movement, so you’re faster than everyone, and your Ki makes you even faster by letting you dash as a bonus action by spending some. you can also spend it to attack twice, dodge, or disengage as a bonus action, and your ki pool recharges every short rest.

5. Monk 3: at third level, this game finally becomes a party as you become a Drunken Master- you don’t actually have to be drunk for this, but you do have to act like it. that’s why you have proficiency with Performance and brewer’s supplies so you can pick for yourself.

that being said, beer doesn’t win every fight, so you get actual features too- your Drunken Technique means that every time you use a flurry of blows (the two attacks as a bonus action from last level) you also disengage, and your movement speed increases by 10’ to boot. maneuvering is always a big part of tactics, so anything that makes it easier for you to get where you want to go is just good strategy.

you can also Deflect Missiles now, reducing damage from incoming archers and even throwing the arrow back if you nullify the damage and spend ki.

6. Monk 4: fourth level monks get their first Ability Score Increase, so increase that Dexterity for better dodging and more accurate attacks. you can also Slow Fall now for reduced fall damage, so fighting Nikitich isn’t quite as bad an idea as before.

7. Monk 5: fifth level is huge for monks, if you’re the kind of person to like hitting things. your martial arts improve to deal d6s, you get an Extra Attack each action, and you can turn any attack into a Stunning Strike- force a constitution save on someone, or they get stunned for a round, giving advantage to everyone trying to hit them and keeping them from retaliating. “don’t get hit” is also pretty sage advice. of course, all this still requires you to hit someone- thankfully you can use Focused Aim by spending ki to add to your attack rolls. it’s a huge ki sink, but sometimes defeating an enemy now is more important than saving materials for later. I know, strategy, in the strategist build, wild right?

8. Monk 6: sixth level monks get Ki-Empowered Strikes, so now your unarmed attacks are magical and can overcome resistances to bludgeoning damage. it’s a shame this doesn’t apply to your whip as well, but I feel like any kind of god-chastising whip is more of a quest item than something you should just have. don’t worry though, by the end of this build your whip will be strong enough to chastise a lot of things, even if it isn’t a legendary weapon.

that being said, your Tipsy Sway is a pretty cool consolation prize- you can leap to your feet from prone for just 5’ of movement, and you can spend a ki point to redirect attacks that miss you into hitting another creature. I’m pretty sure that’s more Sun Tzu than Taigong, but the smartest people know when someone else had a good idea.

9. Monk 7: seventh level monks get Evasion, improving the damage reduction from dexterity saves. now you’re practically immune to fireballs, so fighting Nikitich is almost starting to look like a good idea!

you also have a Stillness of the Mind that lets you shut down any effects that are charming or frightening you. you don’t have a choleric temper, so enemies will not be irritating you much. wait, no, that’s still Sun Tzu, sorry.

10. Monk 8: I think we’re about at the point where you hit your third ascension, but before then we’re getting another ASI and making you an Adept of the Red Robes. first, this gives you access to a second level spell that you can cast for free once a day. for this build we’re grabbing Dragon’s Breath for your mount later, but if you want to help Guda and company when you first meet up you could grab Levitate instead. right now you can only cast it via this feat, but you can use second level spell slots to cast it like a normal spell once we get those.

thankfully, that’s not the only thing this feat does. you can also restore magical balance whenever you make an attack or check, turning your roll into a roll of ten, up to proficiency times per day. your strategy might not always work, but at least it will never fail.

11. Ranger 3: I think we’re doing good on the whip, but we’re not quite godly enough yet. heading back to ranger at least lets you hunt them down easier with Primeval Awareness- you can spend a spell slot to detect celestials within a mile of you, as well as various other kinds of extraplanar monsters. that means it should work pretty well against Koyanskaya too- or at least it would if she hadn’t surrounded herself with all other sorts of monsters.

you’re also a Beast Master now, which means you can summon a shape-shifting Primal Companion to pal around with. none of them can technically be ridden, but tbf you don’t look super comfortable on that tapir anyway. you and your companion both move on your turn, but the only way to make your animal do anything but dodge requires you to spend your bonus action telling it what to do. or for you to get knocked out. nobody said good strategies are easy to pull off.

you can spend spell slots to resummon a dead companion, or wait until you finish a long rest to summon one for free.

on top of that, you get another spell- since we’re not getting true flight, I hope grabbing Zephyr Strike will make up for that somewhat. for a minute you get free disengaging, and you can end the spell early to get advantage on a weapon attack and deal extra damage if it hits. on top of that, your walking speed increases by 30’ that round, letting you blast yourself a truly silly amount of distance.

12. Ranger 4: fourth level rangers get another ASI, and it’s finally time for you to become a Righteous Heritor. that increases your Dexterity score by one, and you can protect your allies by spending your reaction to reduce any incoming damage for them, up to proficiency times a day.

I’m not actually expecting anyone playing this build to have to come up with clever strategies all the time; having a couple “whoops we fucked up” buttons that undo damage is just as good.

13. Ranger 5: fifth level would be a dead level for you, but thankfully rangers get second level spells! it’s still not flying, but Gust of Wind can knock people around with air, so it’s the closest we’re getting. (plus if you gust someone off a cliff they’re technically flying… downward… for a short period of time…)

14. Ranger 6: sixth level rangers get another favored enemy, and if Daji isn’t a celestial she’s probably an Aberration. you don’t get any new additions to the feature, but it works on twice as many monsters. what is new this time around is your new Deft Explorer feature, Roving. you get a small boost in movement speed, and you have a climbing and swimming speed now. have you seen Chinese mountains? honestly it would probably be easier to just run straight up them.

15. Monk 9: ninth level monks can run straight up them thanks to your Unarmored Movement Improvement- as long as your turn ends on solid, flat ground, you can run over water or up walls. you might think this makes the last level of ranger useless, but having a climbing speed should make it easier to latch onto the cliff face in-between turns so you don’t just fall all the way back down. clever thinking like that’s why you’re a strategist.

16. Monk 10: tenth level monks have a Purity of Body that makes you immune to disease or poison. as far as I’m aware, Taigong Wang never got sick or poisoned in the Investiture of the Gods, and that book’s 100 chapters long. this is mostly because I never read the thing, but still.

17. Monk 11: eleventh level monks get d8s for their martial arts, but more importantly you have a Drunkard’s Luck- or possibly a drunkard’s strategy. whenever you’d have to make an attack, save, or check at disadvantage, you can spend two ki points to cancel it. this also works on rolls where your advantage and disadvantage cancel each other out, which is extra fun. combine this with your magical balance, and now your plans should never fail.

18. Monk 12: we had to spend so many ASIs on feats that one of our stats is still odd, so this last one will be no different. the Slasher feat will even out your Dexterity, but it also reduces a targets speed when they take slashing damage from your whip, and critical hits force disadvantage on that creatures attack rolls for a turn. crits are luck-based, but luck is just strategy you’re too humble to claim ownership of.

19. Monk 13: our penultimate level gives you a Tongue of the Sun and Moon, letting you speak and understand all languages. if you get a couple hundred gods into heaven, you can skip your duolingo practice, those are the rules.

20. Monk 14: the real reason we stuck with monk for so long, our final level gives you a Diamond Soul, granting you proficiency on all saving throws, and even if you fail one, you can spend a ki point to reroll it. having to maintain concentration on hunter’s mark is the worst part of being a ranger, and now that shackle is lifted. go forth, and slap things with slightly more damage than usual.

Pros & Cons

Pros:

Hunter’s Mark is always a fantastic spell to have on a monk due to how many attacks you get each turn. monks already do decent damage, and when you have your mark up you can put some serious pain on people. being able to almost constantly have the thing active since you’ll never drop concentration is also a nice bonus of the build.

speaking of, you almost never fail at anything. you can give yourself advantage, ignore disadvantage, and even fudge your roll a couple times a day. some call it luck, but if it came from a build you chose to use, that’s strategy. and Taigong Wang is a damn good strategist.

whip monks are also great, it’s a shame the last one we built was like, Cursed Arm. you’re already ridiculously fast, and by using a reach weapon you can attack enemies and bolt without needing to disengage, then run out of their reach so they can’t even attempt to retaliate. it’s not quite flight, but it’s up there in terms of good strategy.

Cons:

you can do a lot, but most of that a lot lands in your bonus action, forcing you to choose between most monk abilities. ranger spells, or actually using your beast. variety tends to be a better build goal than just doing one thing well, but it will mean you have to actually think about what you want to do and when.

we also grab a lot of feats, so your overall stat total is lower than most people’s. it’s not a huge issue, but it does mean you’re squishier than I’d like and your spells aren’t powerful.

Beast Master. just. beast master. literally any other ranger subclass would have been a more useful pick, but we needed a shapeshifting buddy. you can’t even ride on him- at least, not comfortably. your tapir will almost certainly die in one round if you take it into a fight, and even trying to use it in combat blocks you from using a ton of your monk abilities.

#fgo #fate grand order #D&D 5e #DND #Taigong Wang