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#and he wouldn't even be able to go to the police or anything
someoneinjersey · 22 hours
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re: jon bernthal
I like him. I support him. Are there things about him I don't agree with? Sure. But I possess the critical thinking skills to be able to think about someone else's perspective.
He's a Jewish man. I'm sure the decision for him to support Israel (if he does, I haven't seen any definitive evidence except that he had an Israeli soldier on his podcast at some point) comes from a really complicated place. One of my closest friends from 5th grade to graduation is Jewish. Her parents even met at a kibbutz. She works for an organization to help Jewish people in America take trips to Israel. While her FB is private (and I left FB a long time ago), I wouldn't doubt for a second she supports Israel. But she was always one of the kindest and most generous people I ever knew, and I don't think she'd support anything blindly. I think Jewish people in the US are in a really rough spot right now and we need to recognize that as much as we recognize that the country of Israel is committing genocide. It's not as black and white for them as we non-Jewish folks want it to be.
Jon gave a domestic abuser a platform on his podcast. Yeah. A guy who he was friends with who was terrible and went through rehab and therapy and came out with a different perspective. I personally don't like that actor but I didn't enjoy him much after Transformers anyway. If we're close to someone and they do something bad, we usually give them a second chance, maybe more. We're supposed to support growth and change especially with those close to us. In my own life I still spoke to my abusive father for a time after my parents divorced and was at his bedside the day he passed. Another person close to me was accused of SA but I'd known them their whole life and couldn't fathom it being true so I stood by them. That's just life. Life is so fucking complicated.
Jon supports the police and the military. Of course he does, most of the country does and he's played a cop/detective/soldier like a dozen times in his career and spent a ton of time with them to learn about the jobs and the cultures within them. I'm pretty sure that's the first thing people got on his ass for -- not being all ACAB from the start and then later featuring police on his podcast etc. AGAIN, when you KNOW people, it's a lot harder to draw those black and white lines. I'm for defunding the police and reallocating the money for more productive services, I'm against police violence, I'm against the mass incarceration of minorities for minor infractions, I'm against prison slavery, all that shit, and I hate that stupid "thin blue line" nonsense. But I'm not gonna go up to every cop I know and tell them they're a piece of shit. I'm not gonna NOT call the cops when the local addicts go on a B&E spree to steal shit to pay their dealers (true story, we only didn't get robbed because someone is always home).
PLEASE fucking think critically and PLEASE realize that not everything is black and white and PLEASE let people enjoy shit that brings them happiness in this shitty fucking world.
And I'm not looking for arguments or debates on this, thanks.
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whoopsyeahokay · 2 days
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October Sun
summary: Simon had been on the verge of getting the fuck out of Dodge, the enormity of everything he'd found out starting to bog him down. He hadn't been able to do it alone, not anymore, not even for Maddie. Thankfully, the universe had heard him and had held out an olive branch.
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence.
bon reading, frens
___________________________💀
OCTOBER SUN pt.11
Simon crept to his car, a tactical advance, hunched low to the ground and clinging to the shadows as far as they would take him. He was afraid, adrenaline pumping, heart pounding in his ears; he didn't want Mr. Anderson to find him sneaking around the school a second time. Not after what he and Maddie had uncovered in the supply closet.
Mr. Anderson had propelled up Simon's short list of suspects to the top spot, the cache of money a sure sign the man was up to no good. Simon didn't have a lot of experience with society's seedy underbelly, but if movies had taught him anything, it's that normal people didn't hide stacks of cash outside of their homes unless they expected a police raid.
Was Mr. Anderson a drug dealer? Some kind of kingpin moonlighting as a high school English teacher? It was the perfect disguise. Cops would never think of a man who works with teenagers capable of that level of corruption. At least, not in Split River. No matter how many problems the town had, it wasn't that degree of shitty.
Only, Mr. Anderson had seemed nervous; a man forced onto a ledge at gunpoint. Threatened. Scared.
Okay, Simon reasoned, so Mr. Anderson wasn't a high-ranking drug lord. But he was definitely on the wrong side of the law and was obviously desperate. And desperate people were unpredictable when they felt backed into a corner.
He'd claimed he'd given Maddie what sounded like had been a large sum of money. A bribe, maybe. One that, in the end, hadn't been enough to convince Mr. Anderson she wouldn't rat on him. The thought made Simon's stomach churn, bile burning the back of his throat.
Maddie had been wrecked by the discovery, hands shaking from a surge of emotion too enormous to contain. She'd held it together long enough to caution Simon not to contaminate the evidence by touching it, assuring him she'd count it after he was safely off campus.
She'd shooed him from the classroom, "You have to leave, now," eyes watery as Mr. Anderson's betrayal finally seemed to register. "I've got this, okay? Just go."
Simon had done as ordered. What good would he be if Mr. Anderson took him out next?
He peeled out of the parking lot and into the road, lightheaded as a thousand and one questions flooded his brain. His chest tightened, breathing labored, and—God, shit, he hadn't had a panic attack since middle school but, since Maddie's disappearance last Friday, they'd made a grand comeback. Kept him awake at night when there was nothing left to distract him from what could've happened to his best friend.
"Fuck." Simon rasped, smacking the steering wheel with his palm. And then, increasing in volume and intensity, "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" He beat the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn once and startling a woman walking her dog.
"Sorry!" He called, sheepish, through the open driver's side window, flashing a hand in apology. He didn't wait for a reaction, simply continued to drive home.
The thought of interacting with his parents put him on edge. He didn't know how he was supposed to stay quiet about Mr. Anderson. Noticeably off the last few days, Simon had already endured three separate lectures about drug use, depression, and sexuality respectively.
His parents' unconditional support, though amazing, made him feel like garbage—or, more accurately, a landfill—for causing them to worry to the point of draping a rainbow flag over the back of the couch and reassuring him that, "Love is love, mijo. We just want you to be happy."
Even if he could slip past his dad, his mother would undoubtedly pick up that whatever plot she suspected Simon of hiding had thickened. And, frankly, if she asked just right, Simon knew he'd crack and tell her everything. About Xavier, about Mr. Anderson...about developing The fucking Shining and assuming the role of Watson to his best friend's ghost.
Buying himself some time, Simon took turns he didn't have to; drove through random neighborhoods as he tried to think up a plausible excuse for his behavior that wouldn't result in another intervention. He didn't have it in him to watch his mother's face crumple as he lied to her again. The umpteenth time that week.
He needed to talk to someone. To get it out of himself and share the burden. His skin felt too tight and his bones too heavy and he couldn't carry the weight of Maddie's murder mystery alone.
And then, as if God had heard him, Simon's prayers were answered.
Without thinking it through, he pulled over and beeped his horn to get your attention before you turned onto the path that margined the small, neighborhood greenspace.
Clambering sideways to get out of his car, his foot caught on a pedal, seatbelt still hooked, Simon called out, "Hey!" grunting when he was knocked back into his seat by the strap. He took a second to collect himself, unbuckled his seatbelt, and climbed out in a less frenzied manner.
"Uhhhmm, are you okay?" You asked, your face displaying how not okay you thought Simon was. You glanced up and down the street, puzzled, "What are you doing here? Don't you live in Cedar Bank?" A suburb on the other side of the river that bisected the town.
Simon debated whether or not it had been a good idea to stop, but he didn't think he could give you an excuse and drive away, either. He dimly sympathized with how Mr. Anderson had felt back in that classroom; splitting threads pulled through the eye of a needle.
He summoned his resolve and turned to face you, "I need to tell you something."
You cocked your head, looked Simon over, and nodded slowly. Simon could tell you were trying to determine what this was about. Realized as you walked him into the little playpark and took a seat on one of the two swings, that he'd come out of nowhere in a move that could easily be interpreted as stalkerish.
"I could give you a lift home if you wanna talk in the car?" He offered, settling into the second swing all the same. The park was deserted, dark, the glow of the streetlights falling short by a few meters.
You shook your head and hooked your thumb over your shoulder, "That's literally my backyard."
Simon followed your indication and saw the top half of an antique build, painted a deep royal purple and trimmed in evergreen, that peaked over a tall, bushy hedgerow. A wooden fence several inches shorter than your family's hedges divided the public space from private property, running the length of the park behind your house and a few others.
"Huh." Simon returned his gaze to yours, "Never mind."
"Did you talk to Nicole?" You asked, possibly thinking that that was what Simon wanted to discuss.
He fiddled with his hands, closed his eyes, and supported his head on the metal chain that held the swing up. "No." He stated honestly. He needed to tell you about Mr. Anderson. Just. Start talking. But the words kept sticking in this throat.
"Simon? You're starting to scare me, is everything okay? Is this..." You trailed off and when you spoke again, you sounded uncertain, "Is this about Maddie?"
"Kind of," Simon admitted, pressing the meat of his palms into his eyes. "Screw it," He spun the swing so he faced you completely and then simply...uncorked the bottle, "I found a shit ton of money in Mr. Anderson's classroom. Like, wads of it. Probably thousands of dollars hidden in the wall in the closet."
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
What the f u u u u u u ck.
One minute you'd been on your way home, trying to parse out why the connection between you and Wally had gone dormant as soon as you'd left him, and now, there you were, listening to Simon basically tell you that he'd unmasked Mr. Anderson like a Scooby-Doo villain.
You didn't have that on your Everything is FUBAR bingo card, that's for sure.
Okay. Okay. This was...big. Huge. And, "Holy shit, maybe that's why he freaked on me in the theater," you said, mostly to yourself though you knew Simon would hear it.
"He what?"
You looked at Simon, "Earlier, I was—" Lie like a smart girl, "—looking for something Tilly forgot in the theater and he found me. But, Simon," You stood, started to pace, "He was acting paranoid like I found his dead mom à la Norman Bates. He practically threw me out of there." Which was, fine, a mild exaggeration, but Mr. Anderson's paranoia hadn't been. "I've never seen him like that. And he kept getting these phone calls that made him even more angry."
"Wait, what do you mean 'phone calls'? Did you hear anything?"
"No, just that he needed a minute. I guess to go find somewhere I wouldn't hear him."
Simon was standing now, pacing in a pattern the reverse of yours.
"He was on the phone when I saw him. Talking to someone about how he shouldn't have given Maddie money."
You felt like the sky had fallen on your head, "He gave Maddie money? Is that why she..." You'd wanted to say ran away, a kneejerk reaction borne from days of convincing yourself she'd just put Split River in the rearview. With what you knew now, you settled for, "Disappeared?"
Simon appeared to notice your choice of wording, peered at you like a math problem, but didn't mention it, instead revealing, "It's a line of inquiry."
You rubbed your temples to ease away the migraine that was building. Today had been too much; too many things unfolding one after the other: First hearing from Wally that Maddie was a ghost, and then just Wally and everything you had to unpack with that, and now Mr. Anderson's apparent criminal activity that may or may not have had a direct impact on Maddie's being a ghost in the first place.
Of course, you reminded yourself, she wasn't a ghost because, again, you couldn't see. her. Which meant that, if he was involved, Mr. Anderson had drugged her to the point of a coma and had hidden her body somewhere.
"Oh my God," You moaned dismally, "This is so f u c k e d." As the gears turned, something niggled at the back of your mind. "Simon," you ended your pacing to lift your gaze and regard Simon closely, "Why were you there?"
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
Simon knew he had to give you something, but, Jesus Christ, he was nervous. He'd already decided not to admit he could see Maddie, unable to believe that you wouldn't tell a trusted adult. And he wasn't keen on getting pumped full of antipsychotics and locked in a padded room, thanks.
You watched him, eyes hard, jaw set, more serious than he'd ever seen you, "Simon, what the hell?"
He swallowed, opting for half-truths, because he'd come this far. He needed help. A confidante. Would've preferred Nicole but she'd galivanted off with Xavier, apparently, and took the choice out of Simon's hands.
"I've been looking for clues about what happened to Maddie," Simon confessed, a weight lifting from his shoulders. "Since the search on Monday, when Xavier got arrested—"
You interrupted, fierce, loyal, "He wasn't arrested, Si. His dad was just taking him to the station to give an official statement."
"In the back seat?" Simon deadpanned.
"There's no room in the front of the cruiser!" You threw your hands up as if dealing with the situation would drive you to drink.
"With the lights on?"
"Because there was a crowd of people practically throwing themselves at the car to get Xavier's face on video."
Simon conceded and resituated himself on one of the swings. You followed his example, though, this time, you shrugged off your backpack and dropped it in the sand beside you.
"So, what do we do?" Simon wanted to know, close to getting on his knees and begging you to take the reigns on this because he was exhausted.
"Alright." You shifted to straddle your swing, hands in front of you as you counted details on your fingers. "We know that Maddie went missing on Friday. We know Xavier had nothing to do with it." Your eyes narrowed, daring Simon to comment. He didn't. "We know that Mr. Anderson is hiding money and that he gave some to Maddie. To keep her quiet?"
"That's what we-" Simon tensed, quickly undoing his mistake, "I'm thinking." That intense look of scrutiny was back on your face and Simon resisted the urge to gulp. Three days ago Simon had figured you for the only person who'd believe him about Maddie's ghost. My how times have changed.
"If he was hiding money in his classroom, he could be hiding other things around the school, too." You rationalized. "Like the theater. I bet you anything that there's something he doesn't want us to find in there."
True. In fact, "Do you think he's hiding Maddie in there?"
"What, like, under the stage? That'd be pretty risky. And the cops went through every room in the school with search and rescue dogs and everything. Wouldn't they have found her if she was down there?"
Simon deflated, "Good point," reluctant to add that those dogs probably weren't the type trained to find cadavers.
"Right." You paused, either to organize your thoughts or analyze Simon further, he wasn't sure, but you soon continued, tone weak, "Simon, if he did have something to do with Maddie...I take back what I said before."
"About?"
You shrunk into yourself, forcing "Maddie being okay," as if the words had to be wrenched out of you. "I don't want to believe Mr. Anderson could've hurt her but." You blinked a rapid dozen times up at the sky, visibly shaken as you considered the worst, "I don't think she's okay."
A lump formed in Simon's throat. He was all too aware of the painful truth. His vision blurred, nostrils prickled, the enormity of the situation closing in on him.
"Yeah," He sniffed, "Me neither."
‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗
Neither you nor Simon were aware that, only ten feet away, crouched in the bushes, a figure wearing Simon's best friend's face had heard everything.
Cold.
Hungry.
And without an iota of guilt.
💀___________________________
PART TEN
note: thank you so much for reading, lovelies! i'm currently working on the next update (which is Reader/Wally-focused) and am hopeful that it'll be ready by the end of this week! so keep an eye out 👀 (@banana-lol no accidents pls 😉)
if you'd like to be kept up to date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS, since the taglist has malfunctioned 🙈 i'm still adding ppl to it, but i can't guarantee that it'll notify you when i update 💀
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justmaghookit · 2 months
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To protect their identities I will not be posting images of the victims.
Yesterday a 45 year old white man took it upon himself to do a "citizens arrest" wherein he physically restrained three blak kids, binding their wrists together with zip ties and then binding them to each other. The children were aged 6, 7 and 8. They had gone swimming in the pool of a vacant property which is currently for sale, you know, regular kid stuff.
The perpetrator is not the owner of the property, allegedly he is a tradesman who was called to work on the air conditioning in the property and took great personal issue with three kids taking a cheeky swim on a blistering summers day. The man then called the police to report trespassing.
You know you've fucked up when so called australia's famously racist cops rock up on the scene and go "what the fuck mate." even the WA police commissioner was able to find a shred of empathy in his cold dead heart to call the scene "disturbing"
The children were attended by an ambulance and there has been no reports of injuries, though I suspect they're deeply traumatized by the experience, if the images of them sobbing are anything to go by.
The man has been arrested and is facing three counts of aggravated assault.
As I was making sure I had my information correct writing this post I saw a lot of white folks on twitter asking where the parents were, how they wouldn't let their kids do this, how its still trespassing blah blah blah, regular entitled white racist nonsense.
I was once a cheeky kid myself, and more than once I hopped a fence to go swimming in the neighbours pool while they weren't home alongside my siblings, but I'm white, so I'm allowed the luxury of kids will be kids. These were just children, innocent little bubs who just wanted to cool down in the suffocating heat. They were punished for the crime of daring to be children while blak.
It just goes to show just how deeply racism against indigenous people is still rooted in our society.
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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DPxDC fanfic idea: The Back Roads
Bruce was driving around as his civilian self one late afternoon. The sun was barely setting, though one wouldn't be able to tell with all the smot.
He was planning on surprising his children with a spontaneous pizza party and some good family-friendly competition. He was excited.
Maybe it was because he was checking on the pile of pizza in the back, or maybe he was more tired than usual from his long nights as Batman, but whatever the case was he did not see the boy until he hit him.
Bruce swears the boy appears out of nowhere like a ghost. One moment, there was a long road with nothing but trees and his softy playing radio.
Bruce has always loved the long secluded roads that lead to his Manor. It always gave him peace of mind to enjoy a drive without anything or anyone around. Rarely did he ever encounter another driver out here - not since the Drakes moved out.
That's why someone standing in the middle of the road had come so unexpectedly. Bruce hadn't even noticed him until his headlights saw a brief flash of blue eyes just as it was too late.
The boy slammed against his hood, flying into the windshield and sliding off to the side. There was a terrible gagging sound, likely the boy checking on his blood as slid away to the ground.
Bruce slammed his brakes, sitting frozen behind the steering wheel. For a moment, all he could do was sit there in horror, wondering if it was true. Then reality crashes in, and he pushes the car door open, falling out in hysteria.
There on the ground is a boy that could be fourteen crumbled. A boy with dark black hair and - if the wide eye stare before the hit was any indication - blue eyes. He looks a lot like his sons.
Bruce feels sick.
Desperately, he rings up an ambulance, chocking on tears as he tells the dispatcher what happened. Bruce, meanwhile, does his best to check the boy over with his training.
He slowly turns him over, pressing his fingers on the neck as gentle as possible. There is a cold moment before he feels a aodt flutter against hia finger tips.
A heart beat but one that was slowing by the second.
Bruce tells the dispatcher this, who in turns tells him as soothing as possible that help is on the way, but Bruce knows the boy doesn't have enough time.
With shaking fingers, he presses the Bat Distress signal. His children are only ten minutes away in vehicles that can get to the hospital in thirty minutes. The ambulance will arrive in that same amount of time.
"It's going to be okay" He tells the still boy. "You're going to be okay. Please. Please. Be okay"
Nightwing pulls up then in the Batmobile with Robin in the passage seat. Red Robin, Spoiler and Red Hood are not far behind on thier bikes.
They all stop for a few seconds, unsure what to do, before Nightwing shakes himself out of it. "Mr. Wayne we got it from here"
Bruce is only half aware of Damian taking his hand and moving him away as Tim and Dick get the boy into the Batmobile. They speed away to the hospital.
What a terrible night for Alfred to be out.
Later, the cops speak to Bruce and use the dash cam to confirm that the boy really did appear out of nowhere. He's a meta, they say. Likely one that just got his powers.
Teleportation. Or Invisibility.
They weren't sure, but they would figure it out. They told Bruce he was free to go, and there was no need for Bruce Wayne to know further of the case.
Batman, however, was back there that night. He was outraged to find out the boy had been flagged for his meta genes, and some nurse low on cash knew there was a market for meta children.
She was attempting to move the unconscious youth through false discharge papers when Bruce landed on the hood of the car of her associates. They were quickly dealt with, turned over to the police-the good ones- and Batman had made arrangements for the boy to be taken in by Bruce Wayne himself until he awoke.
While that was happening, the attempts to locate the youth's family yielded results. He wasn't in the system himself, but he did match to a brother that was.
A week later, Danny Fenton opens his eyes from the best nap he's had in years, only to find out he was run over while in a ghost version of hibernation and in a different world.
Oh, and apparently, he is being confused as a twin brother of some guy named Tim Drake.
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ladysharmaa · 2 months
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Break in
Jay Halstead x reader
summary: when Jay's girlfriend is home alone while he's at Molly's, someone tries to break into their house
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Y/n was looking disinterestedly through the fridge, closing it with a sigh when she couldn't find anything to eat that she felt like. It was a slow night, her workday had been quiet at the hospital, with only a few patients showing up.
Her boyfriend, Jay, had invited her to join him and the rest of the police department at Molly's. However, she refused, wanting him to spend quality time with his friends, feeling that she had already stolen him from them long enough after he took a few days to take care of her after she fell ill.
Detective Chuckles: Is everything okay out there? The guys miss you! Wish you could be here with me :(
The ringing of her cell phone snapped her out of her thoughts, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she read Jay's message. But she couldn't deny the butterflies that invaded her stomach knowing he was thinking about her. Their relationship was relatively recent, but they had never felt stronger love.
Jay once revealed to her that he realized she was the most important person to him when he was called on an undercover mission. They had only been dating for about 2 months. When he returned, after all the time they hadn't been together, he was shocked to see her waiting for him. He thought she had abandoned him, realizing that she couldn't live with his job, but he was wrong. He ran to her, picking her up and spinning her around a little, her laughter echoing through the room.
After answering his text, Y/n lay down on the couch, watching a movie while waiting for her boyfriend to come home. She didn't even notice when, halfway through the movie, her eyes started to get heavy, and she gave in to sleep.
She woke up again when she heard the lock on the front door click, almost as if someone was trying to get in. Too lazy to get up, thinking it was Jay trying to get in, Y/n tried to call him to remind him he had a key, in case he was already a little tipsy.
At the end of the second ring, the cop answered, but something made Y/n freeze in place, glancing at the door in alarm. She could hear the noise coming from the other people at the bar, meaning he wasn't the one at the door.
"Baby, you there? Is everything okay?" Jay's voice brought her back to reality.
"Jay, aren't you the one trying to get in by any chance?" her voice shook, still standing in the same spot on the edge of the sofa, now raised.
"What? Guys, shut up, I can't hear Y/n. Baby, I told you I'm at the bar with the rest of the group." his voice immediately became serious. "Why? What's happening?"
"Jay, I think someone is trying to get in." Y/n muttered, holding the phone tighter to stop it from falling due to the shaking of her hands. Her wide, frightened eyes were fixed on the door.
As soon as those words left her mouth, Y/n heard a noise on the other side — Jay was shouting something to Severide. Then, there was silence until the sound of Jay's jeep engine was heard.
"Y/n, I need you to listen to me very carefully. You go to our room and lock the door. Then you go to the bathroom and stay in the bathtub until I come and get you. No one else, just me. Do you think you can do that?"
From Jay's voice, Y/n noticed that he went into police mode, speaking calmly but with authority. In fact, this was just so he wouldn't lose control and be able to help his girlfriend, despite the fear that was spreading throughout his body.
"I need verbal responses, baby. Do you understand?"
"I understand." her voice shook.
"Good girl. Everything's going to be okay." Jay tried to comfort her, breaking all the traffic rules and having the sirens on to get home faster.
His heart was tightening in his chest, almost stopping him from breathing. He blamed himself, he knew he should have stayed at home with Y/n, and now she was in danger, and he couldn't protect her.
Behind him, Severide followed him in his vehicle on a 911 call.
"I'm scared, Jay." Y/n's scared voice caught the police officer's attention.
"I know, baby, I know. But I need you to be brave until I arrive. I won't let anything happen to you. I just need you to hold on and then we'll finally go to bed and cuddle. Does that sound good?"
"Yeah." She felt tears coming to her eyes but tried not to let them fall. Just like Jay said, she had to be brave until he came to save her.
Y/n then started to go to her room until she stopped halfway up the stairs when the front door handle stopped turning. For a moment, she thought she was exaggerating and it was just someone who made a mistake in the house. But the panic returned when the automatic rear light came on, indicating that someone had passed by.
Jay only heard the gasp she let out. "What? What's happening?! You need to talk to me, Y/N."
"I think they're trying to get in through the back. I don't know if I locked that door!" She stopped her speech suddenly. "Oh god, I just remembered I left Missy sleeping in the kitchen."
"Y/n, do not go in there just because of the fucking cat!"
Jay didn't even like the little furball who seemed to hate him from the moment Y/n started dating him. However, he knew that his girlfriend would never forgive herself if something happened to the cat.
"Don't scream at me! I would be such a bad owner if I didn't come back to get my cat."
"I don't care about the damn cat when you're in danger!" Jay argued, but he knew Y/n was already heading downstairs to get Missy.
When Y/n arrived, she quickly found the animal on the dining table, looking super calm, an emotion quite contrary to what Y/n was feeling. Picking her up and quickly kissing her head, the girl thought about what her next step in the plan would be: go back up the stairs or find another place to hide.
However, the intruders finally opened the door, and the choice became obvious. Y/n quickly ducked and hid behind the kitchen counter so she wouldn't be seen. On all fours and with Missy under her arm, she grabbed a knife and tried, as silently as possible, to head towards the pantry.
"Y/n, don't go silent on me. Tell me what's going on. I'm three minutes away."
"They're here, Jay. I'm in the pantry with a knife." Her breaths were ragged and shuddering. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying. "I was so stupid. Why didn't I do what you said? I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. God, don't apologize, sweetheart." Jay muttered with a heavy heart, running his hand over his face in despair, never having felt greater helplessness.
"They're getting closer." Y/n whispered, closing her eyes and holding her hand in front of her mouth so you wouldn't hear her heavy breathing. Jay slammed his hands on the steering wheel, clenching his jaw and thinking about what he could say to his girlfriend. "I love you, Jay. So much."
"Don't say that like it's goodbye, Y/n. I can't take it." He shook his head, using all his strength not to break down and burst into tears. "I'm almost there. One minute."
But Y/n was no longer able to respond. That's because a man, dressed all in black, entered the kitchen and looked around. She was peeking through the pantry bars, hoping he wouldn't be able to hear her and that Missy kept quiet.
She just had to hold on for one minute. Jay would be there on time. Either way, she held the knife in front of her, ready to attack. But deep down, she knew she had no chance against the muscular man. Very easily he would be able to throw her down and take the knife from her. But she wouldn't go down without a fight.
She knew that if it came to that, she would have to try to scratch him to get his DNA under her nails. That way Jay and his team would have a better chance of catching this man.
The man got closer and closer to the pantry. Y/n's hands were shaking uncontrollably. She just wanted to close her eyes and discover that it was all a nightmare. But as much as she wanted to, this was reality and the fact that she could die that day became more and more real and scary.
She didn't want to die without kissing Jay one last time. Without calling her parents to tell them she loved them. Without telling her best friend she should take the first step and text the boy she liked. She wanted to be a mother. She wanted to marry Jay and experience an eternity with him.
But just as she was ready to run out with the knife pointed at him as soon as he opened the pantry door, the man was pulled aside. She heard a moan of pain followed by things falling to the floor. Y/n wanted to go out and see what was happening, but Jay's words echoed in her head: stay hidden until he came to get her.
And then came immense relief. She heard sirens. Before she could process everything that was happening, the pantry door opened. Y/n, in a moment of panic, got up and tried to attack, the person easily dodging and putting his hands up in defense. It was only then that she realized that the person in front of her was Jay, and the intruder was on the ground, bruised, and being arrested by another police officer.
Missy, with all the commotion, quickly ran up the stairs, probably hiding in the guest room until things calmed down. In turn, Y/n dropped the knife on the floor, her face contorting and her lips trembling. She began to cry, finally releasing all the panic and fear she felt. She was pulled into Jay's arms and into his chest.
With his arms around her, feeling his warmth and the movements of his chest, Y/n finally felt safe. Jay kissed her head, saying words of comfort in hopes that she would calm down.
"Jay…" she cried, grabbing his shirt with a very tight grip.
"I'm here, baby. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. You're safe. Shh…"
Jay then just pushed her away slightly, holding her face with both of his hands. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm okay. I was so scared."
"I know, baby. But you were so brave, I'm so proud of you. And I'll never let this happen again, I promise." he gave her a small kiss on the lips, pulling her back to him. She would never disappear from his sight again.
"Hey, sweetheart." Gabby's voice broke the moment between her and Jay. Y/n she turned her head to look at the woman she adored so much, only now realizing that Severide and Brett were watching the scene from afar. However, she continued to grab Jay's shirt, ensuring he stayed close to her. "Do you mind if we go to the ambulance just to make sure everything is okay?"
A moment of hesitation. Brett, realizing the problem, stepped forward and with a gentle smile said, "Jay can come too."
So, Y/n nodded in permission, following the paramedics to the ambulance. Outside, there were two more police cars and neighbors were in front of their houses in their pajamas to see what was going on. Always under Jay's arm, Y/n waited for Dawson and Brett to do their assessment, ensuring that everything was really okay.
After ensuring that there was no need to go to the hospital, despite a lot of resistance on Jay's part, Y/n won the argument with the condition that the next day, Will would stop by to check on her. But at that moment, Y/n just wanted to sleep with Jay next to her.
Once in bed, the man had one arm over her protectively, making sure there was no space between them. "I will protect you until the end of my life. I love you."
"I love you too." she looked at him with just love in her eyes. Finding a more comfortable position, Y/n closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
But Jay stayed up all night. The most important thing is that Y/n recovers after that traumatizing night. And if she had any nightmares, he would be there to protect her.
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luv-gukkie · 3 months
Text
★ 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 ★
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pairing: yandere! yoongi x f. reader
genre: smut || non-idol au || yandere
summary: yoongi just can’t seem to get enough at the way you look at him; he really loves it, even if it’s a mix of fear and hatred.
word count: +4.5k
tags/warnings: ᑲᥙᥣᥣᥡіᥒg, non-con, ᥡ᥆ᥙᥒg ⍴rᥱgᥒᥲᥒᥴᥡ, sᥕᥱᥲrіᥒg, ᥲᑲ᥆r𝗍і᥆ᥒ mᥱᥒ𝗍і᥆ᥒᥱძ, reader is scared to disappoint parents, wealthy!yoongi, he’s brutally mean (which is not cool), sub! reader, dom! yoongi, blackmail, mentions of bribing/corruption in a school & police, he lowkey sadistic
notes: another little story is on the works for jungkook and yoongi, unfortunately, i don’t know when i’ll finish though :’)
༻❤︎︎ ★ ★ ❤︎︎༺
Min Yoongi was exploring his ideas, much into thought about what else he could to make you notice him even more. Every time he would torment you, he would be captured by how stunning you looked, and that was just on you wearing one of the uniforms that was required by the school.
Yoongi knew it was something that he shouldn't do to someone he loved. Despite that, he knew it was his only way to place your attention on him. He didn't really mind doing what he did, he had nothing against you. Yoongi just had a huge crush on you. And you would learn in the future of how a 'huge crush' was a complete understatement. Yet, he found it lovely when you would look around the room to see if he was there. He adored that.
You knew about him, as your bully. The guy who over the year spent his time making fun of you, and the worst thing was no one ever stopped him. His actions repeated daily. Maybe because Yoongi was the happiest person alive when you would only place the spotlight on him. Dared the others to say anything. He knew your main focus was on him as soon as you entered the school building until the moment you left. But you weren't! Not one bit of glee in your body when you knew you had five days ahead of you that would make you want to stay home because of a certain boy.
You hated him, you didn't even know what you did wrong to make him center you and torture you throughout your highschool year. But whatever you could have done, you surely regretted it.
He would constantly threaten you. Telling you threats after threats: "listen or else..." However, you began to notice that Yoongi would always repeat the same threat over and over. That if you told anyone about what he was doing, he would treat you more worse. Of course you had been petrified of asking for help from your peers or professors. You didn't want to get on his bad side even more.
But you started believing that he wouldn't even be able to stand close to you after telling an adult, that a restraining order would do the trick. So you were going to tell an adult, the adult that was responsible of the school, and you did. You had informed the principle on your situation with Yoongi and what did they do, nothing. You waited for them to assure you he wouldn't try anything. But they didn't care, and didn't even attempt to do something about the situation. You recalled calling them useless hags the next day, when you had been spotted again by Yoongi. And yet again, at his reach.
There was other options...
You were too afraid to tell your parents. You didn't know why you would be, your parents would assist you, help you overcome the obstacle of Yoongi bullying you. They would take into consideration that you could not be bullied anymore, you had finally build up the courage you needed in order for you to tell them, today. However, at the end of the day your teacher assigned you to clean the classroom after school. Just the day you really needed to go home, to prepare and relax yourself before breaking the news to your parents.
But it didn't go as plan. The teacher had to leave the classroom and told you to do some cleaning, if you wanted extra credit. And who wouldn't want extra credit, you could still have enough time to prepare yourself, plus your parents wouldn't be home until later.
What you didn't know was that Yoongi had been planning to see you after school and to surprise his lovely kitten.
Yoongi took it far, very far.
You had been cleaning up the classroom muttering some curses to your teacher when you heard the door 'bang' as it shut close. You slightly jumped at the sudden unexpected noise. Quickly turning around, you saw Yoongi, in a harsh tone you told him that the teacher was around, and if he did anything they would definitely find out. You began to pour out profanities at him, making sure to make him understand how much hate you had for him. Shouting across the room that the outcome of anything he did, would surely result in punishment.
Yoongi couldn't hold back, a smile became visible on his lips. He spoke calmly, "I have enough money from my parents to keep the school quiet. Nobody cares of your well being, the staff was easily bribed, they even accepted the first offer I had given."
You cursed at him: "fuck you." Adding that you would tell your parents and that they would take it to the police, he grinned. Your mind was racing with thoughts of how to get out of the situation, out of the classroom.
Yoongi slowly made his way to you, hoping that you would just accept the fact that you were stuck with him. But you sure were stubborn. He had been so close to having you, to only to have you run towards the other side.
You were trying your best not to get stuck between him and the walls. To approach the door.
It was a game of cat and mouse between the both of you. You were the little mouse struggling to free yourself from the claws of the wicked cat.
Finally, Yoongi gave up on being so gentle on you. He had to admit, it was cute: how you tried your very best to avoid him, at all cost. It left him with one choice, his only decision was to tackle you, so he did.
Yoongi did what he had to do.
And so did you. You definitely weren't going to let him take advantage of you. You punched him, managing to get out of his aggressive grip, only for him to yell at you with a harsh tone to come back.
Yoongi and you both knew the truth, you weren't considering to ever come back to him. You were choosing your freedom, still, even if it came with the slight prospect of getting caught by him.
Running out the door with all the desperation you had; the desire to get the hell out of the school, more importantly away from any place that Yoongi was. You raced to find anyone, your mind and heart racing: Where are all the clubs today? They were always here or the staff? Anyone?
There was still that expectation in you, that you were going to get away Yoongi. "There!" You happily annoyed, you had spotted the teacher that told you to clean the classroom, you told her everything about Yoongi in a nutshell, explaining that Yoongi was still trying to do something to you.
Something that you didn't want at all, anticipating for her to hold you and to never let go, until you were safe and sound. And at the end of the day, Yoongi would be expelled from the school, the only way to make him disappear from your life.
To never see or hear about him again.
"Found you!" a voice said from behind. You recognized it right away, of course you did, the only male that called you by that nickname. The same male that had just attacked you.
You quickly stared at the teacher, assuming she would pull you behind her and shield you from Yoongi. You indicated her to do something, gesturing your hands to her.
The tears of anxiety started rolling down your checks, you held back the choked sobs that were daring to come out any second.
She just gazed at you. You waited for her to say something. Anything. You just wanted her to aid you by fleeing you from your situation. Despite what you saw in her eyes: the condolence and remorse. What she said was unexpected, her intense gaze fell to the floor, she whispered to him, "Take her quickly because it's making me feel pity."
That was it, that was enough to break you into pieces.
Your heart ached, your emotions mixed together. You felt completely confused and fearful, the realization had hit you with an unpleasant brunt.
It was always about the money. The wealth.
The teachers followed what the student said, in this case, Yoongi was the student with money all around him, the heir to his family's businesses. Everyone listened to the commands of the rich kid—- the spoiled brat.
They were willing to turn a blind eye for Yoongi's 'ugly' demands.
You were lost in everything, mind racing with assumptions. Your eyes no longer had that gleam of hope in them, that optimism. It was long gone, no one is ever going to help you, neither are they going punish Yoongi for his actions.
Ever.
It was you against Yoongi's power, and that easily managed to get people on his side. You were certain that bribes were flooding the school, the lies that were kept in the dirt for specific reasons. Teachers ignoring stunts, like the ones Yoongi pulled on you, for their very own convenience.
You had completely forgotten of what he had told you earlier, how he had manage to keep the whole staff silent because of how he contributed to the school daily, with of course, the power and wealth he had from his family. You wished that you could've remembered, you would have made no excuse to stop running for the support from a teacher that was on his side, helping him. You should've just ran until you were out of the school, and out of his sight.
That would have definitely guaranteed your safety. Now it was just dissolved. Yoongi grabbed your sides, motioning that he was going to pick you up.
One more. Once more. One chance.
You fought against him, using all the strength that you had left. Begging the teacher to assist you, but you heard her heels click farther and farther away. Till there was nothing to hear, just his footsteps as he carried you away, back into the same direction.
Yoongi brought you to the same classroom that you had just been in. Where it all started. It was ironic that the classroom you were in had been the only class you didn't have Yoongi in. The class that made you feel secure and so sure of yourself.
Now, all you felt was horrified of what was going to become of you.
The room diffused with cries and yearns for someone to get Yoongi off you. You attempted pushing him off, but you were weak, you had used all your stability earlier. You just had to accept it. Yoongi spent that time responding back by muttering that you should 'shut the fuck up' or  'stop moving around'. It was getting on his nerves, he was an impatient man. Especially when it came to you, and dealing with your tantrum, when all he wanted was to fill you with cum.
And with his offspring.
That single thought had fractured any patience he had left. Yoongi couldn't hold it in; his hand straightened in the air as it fell down on your check with a great force. A red-hand mark was in-printed on your face. He slapped you, the action left you trembling. You were breaking down, bawling out completely, you closed your eyes lids shut.
Yoongi felt guilty, he didn't want to take these measures, like hurting you into giving him what he wanted. Exactly to how he just had. But he wanted and needed you at that moment. It was time that you learn his true intentions towards you.
Yoongi grabbed his belt and wrapped it around your hands. He sat on your legs, stopping any movement that you were doing that meant you could have a chance of escaping.
Yoongi saw his reflection on your eyes that were gleaming because of the tears that were pouring out. He had you in his arms. After every "little" debate you two had throughout the year, there you were, under him and ready for him to fuck with. Without no regrets of what he was doing. He giggled, "I've finally got you!"
In an instant your shirt was being unbuttoned by Yoongi, you wished you could swipe his disgusting smirk off his face. Was he really going to do it?
"Stay quiet, it'll be over soon." 
Your shirt was grabbed roughly and thrown at a desk, it was exactly your desk. You could see your backpack, it was neatly placed on the corner of the desk, the complete opposite of how you were.
Your hair was messy, your tear-streaked face was slightly red as the batches of tears poured out, the room was overflowing with yelps that emerged from you and constant snickers from Yoongi.
Your legs were on either side of Yoongi, his body separated them so that you couldn't close them shut at all. Then you felt the slight tug at your bra, he unclasped it, and your breasts were let loose for his eyes to devour.
And soon his mouth did too.
His thumbs played with one nipple by pulling it and flicking it, while his tongue licked the other. Yoongi had managed to make you let out a slight whine, it was something you weren't used to at all therefore feeling it for the first time had made it difficult to hold back sounds.
You paid attention to the undergarment that laid on the floor as Yoongi's shirt landed right on top of your bra. His hand snuck into your skirt, "I love your little skirt", his fingers raced against the hem of skirt and soon enough his fingers were rubbing your inner thighs.
His hands were cold and it made you shiver, especially when he was taking your panties off, sliding the material off you on to your ankles and then it was finally off. Yoongi gawked at they thing he desired for a long time, there it was, right in front of him, your pussy.
Yoongi's nose came into contact with your slit, giving it a long lick as he felt the sticky essence from your pussy get on his tongue. One of his hand squished your left breast, his other hand's digits caressed your cunt. In one motion your cunt sucked his fingers in, "Look at you sucking in my fingers", you squeaked at the sudden entrance. Repeated moans left your lips as Yoongi continued ramming his digits into you, he was enjoying every second of the view.
Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled back, your mouth wide opened to release your delightful moans of his fingers plunging themselves into you, your hands gripping onto the belt he trapped your hands in, and the sounds that came where his fingers met your pussy.
And before you could cum, his digits stopped moving and removed themselves. You were groaning at the fact that you felt a tense pain that wouldn't be let loose. You had been too into focus on the release that you failed to notice Yoongi pulling off his uniform, his fingers still wet because of your cunt, leaving marks on his clothes but he didn't mind. All he cared and was anticipating to do was plunge himself deep into your cunt.
To see you moaning, whining, and panting under him, and because of him and his cock. Yoongi would love to see what his mind was visualizing, and he was going to have it. Yoongi sure was spoiled, to have you laid on the floor, your pussy practically begging him to fuck you even though you didn't dare to utter a word.
Yoongi's cock was free as his last pair of clothing was out of the way. His hands spread your legs wider to see your little pussy sulking for his cock to enter you. His hands lifted themselves off yours inner thighs and onto your bosoms. Yoongi pressed them together and held them as he lowered his head to spectate where the two of you would connect.
Yoongi's flushed tip pressing against your folds, he moved his warm head up and down, spreading your wetness on your cunt, he hoped that it would assist in pushing himself in. "I'm bigger than average s-so", he mentioned, wedging his head into your cunt. A low moan slipped out of his mouth, his eyes rested on your expression, which was a painful one. Yoongi felt more blood rush to his cock, he pushed himself forcefully into your crimson walls, "Gosh you're such a turn on!" He groaned out.
A scream ran out of your parted lips and a following cry as well. You were in discomfort, afflicted by the feeling of something inside you, parting your walls apart. All Yoongi could do was be patient and hold back until you got used to his cock filling you up.
Yoongi stayed still, glancing at your stomach which you made you curiosity spark to see what he was so focused on. It was a bulge that showed that his cock was inside of you, it could be seen easily spotted. Yoongi hand reached out, patted the spot, and then pressed down on it. You felt an ache, and shows it by the wailing and the shedding of tears, you had started to get used to it but it still distressed your walls.
A few groans or 'fucks' escaped as he started jamming his cock harder, you still weeped. However, Yoongi had hit a perfect area that resulted in you letting out a loud whimper in return. He pounded into you with his all his force, your back arched in response. The sounds and smell had pervaded the room, your moans and whines or Yoongi's grunts and low whimpers could be heard.
The pace had gotten sloppier as Yoongi was close, you on the other hand, had already cummed on his cock. All you were waiting for now was for him to finish. His cock twitching before your walls were tainted with his cum, and you milked his dick again.
Yoongi thrusted a few more times, he made sure that you weren't on anything and that his sperm was spread throughout your insides enough for it to flourish into something.
He pulled out and pumped his cock a few times before slipping his fingers in your cunt, making sure his cum wouldn't be wasted and would be well kept in your pussy. He chose to ignore the small puddle of blood on the floor, grabbing a tissue in his backpack and cleaning it up, making sure you couldn't catch the crimson red that stained the white tissue. Hiding it in his pocket.
Yoongi was your first. You didn't want to, now here he was fixing you up while you processed everything that rushed throughout your mind. Your cheeks had dried tears on them. The scenes playing over and over in your head. Yoongi had taken your virginity, the boy you hated with your guts.
It wasn't exactly him taking it that frightened you, but the fact that you didn't want it.
"I'll drop you off at your parents, okay." He gripped your hand tightly, trying to gain your attention. You were too silent for his liking, it made him upset. Were you mad at him?
He planned on dropping you off, you had no ride and probably, didn't have the ability to walk home either. And it wasn't something Yoongi would let you do anyways. Yoongi didn't say anything and didn't do anything to you in the car ride. Nonetheless, he gazed from time to time, and if you would have turned to face him, you would have seen the concern in his eyes.
Yoongi was worried for you, he knew it must have been painful for you. He just kept manipulating his mind to believe that he had to do it or he would never be with you. You would never choose to be with him, and he couldn't let that happen.
You didn't tell them, your parents, they weren't even home the moment you arrived. Your mom worked late and your father did too, they tried making so much money, in order for you to live your life and study. Something they couldn't do. So you studied and did your best in everything. From completing every assignment, getting the best grades, and having over 90s in every class. And if you failed, even in the smallest way, you felt like a burden and you were scared of failing them.
So you stayed quiet. However, you forgot to buy something very important, and that mistake would cost you: your future.
You had told the school, they did nothing. So now you felt like no one was going to believe you. Especially since Yoongi had well explained to you that he had plenty of money to keep the whole staff silent, meaning that he had all the money to bribe the police as well.
So the only thing you had left was to keep silent and live on, maybe he won't bother you anymore. He won't follow you, or touch you either. Maybe all along, that's what he wanted. Something to stick his dick in.
Wrong.
Yoongi stayed by your side even more and instead of bullying you, he would only degrade you when didn't listen to him, he wanted you to skip classes to be with him and to keep you away from your classmates. Yoongi switched his seats, he sat next to you in all the classes, whispering to you about gross things, describing things that he wanted to do to you.
A complete nightmare.
On the other hand, you had been sick for days already, throwing up contents from last nights' dinner almost every morning. The only reason that came to mind was the stomach virus that was going around school, thinking that you probably had a weaker defense from sicknesses, so you caught it longer. It was awful.
You noticed that Yoongi had been acting weird around you lately, bringing you stuff, and to proof, bears or little love notes overcrowded your locker, leaving you with predictions that something bad was going to happen.
Soon enough it did.
You were pregnant. With his child.
It didn't make sense to you why you were throwing a whole tantrum, meanwhile he was all cheerful and relaxed, happy to know about this upcoming child. You found out after he specifically told you to take the test in the middle of the night. Yoongi had sneaked into your house, by your room window, after you mentioned you're sickness during the day. Knowing that your parents were a room away, he kept silent, and the first thing you noticed was the pharmacy bag. "You didn't use birth control...did you?" Was the first thing he whispered when both of your eyes met.
A severe panic inflicted inside you, worry that piled onto you: this couldn't be happening. You couldn't be pregnant with Yoongi's child. There was still a slight possibility that it was false.
You believed you weren't, you weren't suppose to get your period until a couple more days. Therefore, you were confident about the negative sign you would face and took the test, now here you are facing the consequences. The two red visible lines showing off the truth, after eight test and multiple pair of dark red lines, it was the same reason you were throwing up in the mornings.
The worst thing was when he told you that the both of you could raise the baby together. However, what angered you the most about his behavior was how calm he was. Especially when he mentioned that you should stop your education, that he could maintain both of you with his money, to become his wife and take care of his children.
What kind of life was that? No, you couldn't, and you wouldn't. You looked for something in your life, a profession that you would love. And that your parents would too. A career that made your parents proud, finishing highschool, heading to college, and later in life, obtaining a great job!
And this child wasn't going to help. Neither was Yoongi.
There was only one solution that came to your mind. You quickly proclaimed 'an abortion', it was the only way that you could actually live the life you wanted. Even as conflicted and horrible you felt for speaking briefly about it, you couldn't help it, you didn't want to have a child at your age.
You were still so young, had so many things left to experience, to do! A life you wanted to take slow and take your time with, every single moment of it, savoring it.
Yoongi observed you at the comment you spurred out. "Tsk- you've got to be kidding me", he studied you, to see if you would apologize, and you didn't. "You're a bitch." Yoongi couldn't believe that you didn't want to carry his child, he would give his everything to have you, but you couldn't do one thing in return for him. It destructed him. "Don't lie."
His words were the usual, and yet it was enough to know that he knew you, probably even better than you knew yourself. Of course you weren't able to do the abortion, but think about it, your future would go down the drain for the life inside of you. There would be not a lot of opportunities, Yoongi had made it clear and set on you being the house wife, no more.
However, the guilt accumulated, now you couldn't even think about the decision. Killing an innocent child, was it something you could do?
"No."
Yoongi held your hands as he blurted out the same word that was in your mind, and if you couldn't do an abortion. The rest of troubles would tumble down on you, like explaining to your parents on how you were gonna give birth to a child in the span of nine months.
——shit——
The small display of affection dispersed, Yoongi's grip compressed on your wrist, forcing your teary red eyes to look at him, meanwhile his own eyes have a glint of amusement in them.
That night was left with you cuddled in Yoongi's embrace, as he whispered 'things' that would make you have brand new batches of tear coat the dried ones on your cheeks, you just wanted to sleep.
In the end, his hand reached to your stomach, patting it carefully, a small peck landed on your forehead. "I love you", he continued telling you how much he loved you and the baby, "and always will." He deliberately tried to manipulate you.
But you knew better, his words were venom to someone's ears. Now you knew better than to fall for his devious schemes.
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railingsofsorrow · 4 months
Text
summary: in which a phone call ruined your day.
... or not, because your boyfriend made sure to be there for you until you were okay again. pairing: s. reid x gn!reader
w.c: 2.1K
warnings/content: reader is reckless and puts themselves in danger (one time); angst; mentions of shutting people out; an argument happens but the fluff comes right after; case-related violence; reader is going through something but it isn't explained; mentions of past bad habits; be aware of spelling errors.
A/N: my finals aren't over but I forced myself to take a break for the night. thus, I'm posting this hurt/comfort blurb. hope you like it.
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“you're mad.”
the day started good. you even got breakfast at home, which is something it almost never works out. but a case only arrived at around nine, so you had time to eat something before leaving.
spencer made toast, crispy, just the way you liked it. you sipped on your orange juice as he took his coffee, hand resting above yours in the comfortable morning silence you liked to partake in.
the day started good.
until things went south really quick.
it all begun with a phone call. not a work call, you were pretty used to those and when hotch called you up to the briefing room, everybody was already filling out paperwork in the bureau.
your mood went sour in a matter of seconds. you think you were able to desguise it from most of the team, though. except for spencer and maybe emily, because emily noticed every eyelash that was out of place, she couldn't even help it.
the news you got caused you to retract back to old habits, shutting people out and drowning in work to avoid thinking about it. you were numb, doing everything on autopilot, but you didn't let it compromise your professionalism. never. that fucking phone call wouldn't make you a bad profiler for a second. you wouldn't let it.
being numb lead you to be impulsive. and you took advantage of that. you'd jump straight into action just to avoid dealing with your problems. just to forget.
“i'm not mad.”
your boyfriend's tone was clipped, short. almost cold, but it didn't got that far yet. it took a lot to make spencer reid mad. but when it happened, and you were the reason, you were always conflicted on whether to let him cool off for himself, give him space, or beg for forgiveness right after you screwed up.
this time, you decided on the former. you don't think it worked that well.
the unsub had a gun pointing at a seven year old child. he was cornered in every way possible. police cars were still arriving at the scene, although five FBI agents aimed at the man, ready to shoot in case he so much as twitched a finger on that trigger.
anxiety ran along the bystanders as they watched it all happen in their neighborhood. you hadn't plan that, in fact, all of you had planned something else entirely. the profile was solid as well as the location and the unsub's endgame.
but people are unpredictable. no matter how hard you've studied the human brain. in certain circumstances, they would be capable of anything. including threatening children's lives.
your boss advised everyone to stay back. that they had it covered. it was only a matter of talking him down, carefully and with confidence.
but the second you heard the sob of that seven-year-old boy, you stopped focusing on the command reaching your earpiece. bulletproof vest and gun set aside, you marched forward, no ounce of hesitation. you knew what you were doing.
“spencer.” you followed him into your bedroom, a tired sigh leaving your lips as you felt your legs wobble slightly. you were exhausted. the day was hell both physically and mentally and you just wanted to take a good shower and sleep for forty eight hours. you wanted to forget it ever happened. you wanted to forget that phone call.
he didn't spared you a glance as he grabbed a pair of clothes to get into the bathroom. there was it. that coldness you hated. it was finally here. “spencer, please. can we talk?” you begged. if there was one thing that suffocated you was sleeping while upset. and your boyfriend was an elite grudge holder. you just couldn't do that tonight.
“of course.” he leaned back from the door just before entering the bathroom. an impassive expression across his featured as he turned to you. you wanted to scream at him. “you've been avoiding me all day, but you want to talk now? of course.”
okay. you deserved that.
did you though? why couldn't he make your life a little easier?
“sorry I was rude to you,” you said, holding back the petty comment wanting to slip out of your tongue. sorry I'm going through something and you're being an idiot about it. “i didn't mean to. I shouldn't have treated you that way.”
spencer's tongue poked around his cheek and you braced yourself for what was about to happen. an argument. in the middle of the night — morning, it must have been past two am.
“i don't care that you were rude the entire day.” spencer clarified as if that would make things better. “i care that you threw yourself in front of a psychopath with a gun, without a bulletproof vest and only your hands to work as a shield.”
“you had my back.” you insisted, recalling the moment the whole team started to shout at both you and the unsub. they were behind you, you had good coverage. “someone needed to talk him down.”
he didn't seem to be on the verge of snapping anymore. his shoulders were slumped. he was tired too. he was exhausted. it has been a long day and you needed to rest. you needed to sleep. you needed to forget.
it had started as a good day.
“we were doing that.” spencer mumbled, softly. he eyed your bitten cuticules, the bandage in your arm and your far away gaze. spencer wasn't stupid. he noticed things. he noticed you. he knew something was wrong from the moment you excused yourself to take a phone call in the middle of the case briefing. you came back into the room a different person. contained. robotic. strictly professional. “why couldn't you wait?”
“it was a child. he was scared.” you snapped, flinching away from him. “he didn't have time to wait.”
spencer pressed his brows together, deciding to not mention the time you did have to do what you had to do. statistics wouldn't help now. “you could have gotten shot in the chest.”
“it barely grazed my arm.”
“that's not the point!”
“and what is?” you yelled back, turning to him, fuming. “there is no point. the boy was in danger. you decided to wait. I decided to act. he's alive. I'm barely hurt. the case is over.”
spencer faltered, seeking something in you that he wasn't able to find. his gaze travelled accross yours in a desperate attempt to make you realise how stupid that single sentence was. one mistake. one wrong move. and you could have been somewhere else instead of in your shared apartment.
a bodybag.
“who called you?” you blinked at him, taken aback by the question. you expected him to blame you further. you even expected him to ignore you for the rest of the night. you would not back down. “i know something happened. someone happened. you're not... you wouldn't do that if you were thinking.”
“so because I'm impulsive one time, you're questioning my judgement?”
“when your judgement makes me almost lose you, yes. I am.” he crossed his arms, licking his lips as he studied you. profiled you. you fucking hated him right now. you wanted to rip his brains out.
“there was an entire team aiming at the guy, spencer.” you scoffed, pressing a thumb against your forehead, a headache brewing. your will to argue has vanished. you just wanted to sleep.
“you were blocking our aim.”
“can you stop?”
“no.”
you no longer had control of your emotions as your sight begins to be blurred by tears. fuck, I can't do this.
the room became silent. as if hearing your inner turmoils, spencer paused. he thought it through, any possibility that might have caused your sudden mood change. your impulsiveness. he thought he had done something, but by your reaction it wasn't that. it wasn't him.
it all shifted after that phone call.
you didn't retract when he approached. you didn't reject his touch or pushed him away. but you remained frozen, locked up in your own cage.
“do you want to talk about it?”
it had started as a good day.
you stood up, brushing your strands behind your ears and swallowing up the feeling of something permanently lodged in your throat.
you didn't turn to watch his expression faltering in disappointment. you didn't had the guts to see it.
“no.” you said. “i'm fine. I'm going to take a shower. I'm tired.” you left to your shared bedroom without a goodnight, knowing it would be pointless since you'd be sleeping alone tonight.
sleeping was a strong word. you closed your eyes, pressing your eyelids so tight that you're seeing stars. tossing and turning for around one hour in an empty bed was enough to leave you upset. the weight of the day and the argument you had with your boyfriend taking a toll on you.
maybe you hadn't been fair to spencer. it's not like he did anything to force your sudden mood change; he had absolutely nothing to do with it, actually. he wasn't responsible for that phone call, he wasn't the person at the other line whose voice you didn't want to hear ever again. he was just the one at the receiving end of your irritability.
your boyfriend, he wasn't one to pry. to force you to speak of things that made you uncomfortable. things you weren't ready to discuss yet. he was the kind of person who would ask if everything was alright and he would make sure you knew you had a shoulder to cry on and a ear to vent if necessary.
spencer was caring and respectful. he knew you needed space just as he did at some moments. so much so that he wasn't sleeping on the couch because he was mad at you — though you had been rude for that to be case — but because being around him, or anyone for that matter, would only set you off.
his curled up frame on the couch, half covered by the blanket and half uncovered to the night air. curls splattered around the pillow he stole from your bedroom when you were still in the bathroom. you wanted to bury yourself into his arms and never leave him again. you wanted his warmth all over you.
standing on the entrance of the living room, you watched his eyelids move incessantly. it was what told you he wasn't in a deep sleep.
he was pretending to be sleeping and you knew he was aware of your watchful eyes.
“i'm sorry.”
you mumbled into the uncomfortable silence, scratching your arm beneath the bandage in nervousness. shifting into your feet, you contemplated approaching him, but remained in the spot.
he peaked at you as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the room. he moved to a sitting position, outstretching a hand in your direction. an invitation.
“c'me here.”
you didn't need to be told twice.
“i'm sorry I was rude to you, I didn't mean it. you were just there and I—” he shushed your ramble with a kiss to your temple, arms squeezing you against him the way you craved in bed a few minutes ago. “i'm sorry, spencer. please don't be mad at me.” the last part you let out in a soft whisper but it only made him pull you closer as a form of comfort, to erase the pain you were feeling.
spencer cupped your cheeks so you would look at him “i'm not mad.” he promised, thumb grazing your face lovingly. “i just thought you needed space, but I promise I'm not mad, okay?”
you nodded with your lips trembling slightly. you were fairly certain that if you were to speak anything right now you'd burst into tears immediately.
you did manage to let out i don't want space, I want you. because it was all that you needed right now. always.
he kissed every teardrop that slipped out after that, bringing you closer to lay on his chest as he rested his back against the arm of the couch.
“i'm here, baby.” he whispered, fingers dancing across your arms. “always.”
you turned on his hold to be face to face with him, lifting one hand to touch the side of his face, caressing his jaw where you felt the growing stubble on his chin.
“thank you.” you said, smiling faintly when he pecked the tip of your nose.
he ended up covering the both of you with the spare blanket.
he breathed out as if pretty satisfacted with your current position, even though you both will most certainly be complaining of backache as soon as you wake up tomorrow. “i love you.” he let out, not minding about the pain in his joints in the morning. the only thing that mattered was you in his arms, safe and sound.
the day started good, until a phone call ruined it completely.
or not. because spencer was there and he kind of made things bearable. and if he could just make you feel better for a little while, that's what he would do.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
taglist: @lilyviolets
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generalllimaginesss · 4 months
Note
How many pick up lines will it take to get you to go out with me?" jack trying to get the reader to go out with him by asking her a million pick up lines
Jacky boy!! Thank you for requesting!! I hope you like it!!
••
The world knows Jack Hughes as good with the ladies. How couldn't he be? He was one of the best looking up-and-coming players in the league, but you knew him as the family friend that was hopelessly in love with you, though the feelings were not quite as mutual.
Jack and your older brother were teammates from the very beginning, finding a close friendship while being on the same team as him, the very first team they were on actually. Throughout the years they may have gone different directions, but they always found time to spend together.
Jack had found his way to your family's house during his break for the holidays, where you happened to be while on break from school. Your brother and parents were out doing something, deciding that it was a good idea to leave Jack home alone with you since you would never entertain anything with Jack.
As you watched Christmas Vacation, snuggled into the recliner, Jack scrolled through his phone, sitting across the room on the couch. You were able to get about 20 minutes into the movie without any interruptions, but Jack decided it would be a good idea to ruin that.
"Hey, Y/N...can you take a look at my phone? I think something is wrong with it. I can't seem to find your number..." He cheekily smiled at you.
"Jack, you dumbass...you've had my number since we were in middle school," You groaned, rolling your eyes as you directed your focus back on the tv. Everybody knew Jack was head-over-heels in love with you. Your parents didn't worry about the two of you home alone, though, because they knew you found him incredibly annoying.
He chuckled, reading something on his phone and once again interrupting your movie.
"Hey, Y/N...do you have a pen?" He could barely talk without laughing.
"Why do you need a pen?" You looked at him, annoyed displayed clearly on your face as your eyebrows furrowed.
"So I can write out our future together..." He giggled as he said it, but it made you want to throw up.
You snorted, "Trust me, there's no ink required for that because you have no future with me."
Jack began to bite his pinky nail, a grin spreading as he continued to read the list of pickup lines he had saved on his phone, "Do you have a sunburn, or are you always this hot?"
His eyes immediately darted towards you, mischief glinting from them as he waited for your response.
"It's the middle of December in Michigan...do I look like I have a sunburn?" You didn't even bother to look at him at this point, unimpressed with his attempts to charm you.
"I think I need to call the police...it's illegal to look as good as you," He couldn't keep his composure at that one, snickering as he watched you roll your eyes and throw your water bottle at him. He caught it with ease to your disappointment. You were aiming at his face.
"If anybody calls the police it's going to be me because you're annoying as fuck and will not quit harassing me," You turned the tv off, there was no point in trying to watch it when he wouldn't shut up.
"Oh yeah, I meant to ask earlier, but do you like my shirt?" He looked down at it and looked back up at you.
You made eye contact with him as you looked at his shirt, realizing it was just another t-shirt, "I guess...there's nothing special about it, though."
"Oh, you didn't notice? It's made out of boyfriend material," His smile only grew wider after each pickup line.
"God, you're such a loser," You groaned as you turned your attention to your phone.
"Come on," He whined, "...how many pick pick up lines will it take for you to go out with me?"
Chortling, you locked eyes with him as you got up from your spot in the recliner, "I would not be caught dead on a date with you."
He groaned, defeated, but only for now. He'd break you eventually, he was sure of it.
You were going to head to your room, but the sound of your brother walking in from the garage caught your attention. He was bringing some groceries in when you confronted him.
"If you don't get your friend, you might not have one anymore," You threatened.
He sighed, "Jack, stop hitting on my sister!"
A laugh erupted from the living room, followed by Jack meeting the two of you by the door.
"I make no promises," He smirked, helping bring in the rest of the groceries.
*
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atanx · 2 months
Text
James Somerton's "A Measured Response": A Measured Response
so I watched a reupload of the video because idk i like to torture myself. and i took a bunch of notes:
“I tried to be a voice for every member of the queer community, but that was a failed endeavour before it even started.”
what a strange way to say ‘I tried making it seem like I’m the only queer creator and stole from and actively harmed people in the queer community. knowingly. purposefully. and when I was called out in the past I tried to hide it.'
“I'm a cis, white, gay man. No matter how much I try to be a good spokesperson, I can never really, truly, understand the life experiences of other, far more put upon,  members of the queer community.”
so of course I stole and hid work from the people I can't understand, gutting it of their personal experiences and refused to redirect my audience to those people so that they can enrich themselves and hear about issues pertaining them from someone who actually does understand.
“...one of the reasons I used their own words. But I should have made it clear that that was what I was doing.”
BITCH YOU STOLE. YOU GUTTED THEIR STORIES OF MEANINGFUL PERSONAL EXPERIENCES. YOU WEREN'T USING THEIR WORDS TO BE ABLE TO TALK ABOUT THINGS YOU CAN'T ENTIRELY UNDERSTAND YOU WERE MILKING THEM FOR CONTENT AND DEPRIVING PEOPLE OF ACTUAL, SOULFUL, MEANINGFUL ARTICLES AND BOOKS AND DOCUMENTARIES AND VIDEOS THEY COULD HAVE BEEN WATCHING INSTEAD.
“Being a cis white man I thought I might win over some people who otherwise wouldn't listen.”
Yeah sure. Because racist transphobes are going to be watching your badly plagiarised gay film analysis.
“I would also like to apologise to Jessie Gender, who is one of the kindest people I ever met. Through my hot-headedness, I drew her into this anger spiral.”
‘through my hotheadedness.’. shirking responsibility onto an ‘ingrained personality trait of yours’ I see.
if you are so honestly sorry for being an asshole to Jessie why don't you fucking apologise to her directly? privately? not as a way to boost your own fucking image??
he's trying to earn good will by complimenting Jessie Gender “oh he knows to compliment an awesome person we have that in common I guess he can't be so bad after all” fuck you I recognise your strategies and it's gross to drag Jessie into this like that, she spoke out against you and you are trying to imply some sort of friendship or something between you. okay I cannot UNDERSTATE the way he tries to make it seem like they are close in some way and sort of drag her onto his side that's so fucking despicable. as far as I know Jessie Gender does not have a relationship with him of any kind?
once again bringing up death threats I see. obviously death threats are shite and anyone who threatens the dude in seriousness or harasses him will not see the light of heaven as Hbomberguy said but IN AN APOLOGY YOU DO NOT MAKE IT ABOUT YOU THAT'S MANIPULATION
also blaming the police for not clarifying a situation in a timely manner - the police are a flaming pile of garbage and I hope the institution explodes but NOT SAYING ANYTHING WAS YOUR CHOICE. THE POLICE DIDN'T MAKE YOU DO SHIT THERE
the problem isn't that you tried to “create a channel where all queer people could be safe”, the problem is that 1) you are a misogynist 2) you yourself engaged in transphobic behaviour and 3) you also actively supressed queer people's voices. The problem isn't that you supposedly wanted a space for all queer people, the problem is that you tried to MONOPOLISE queer literature analysis. fuck, queer doesn't look like a word anymore I've written it too many times now
(paraphrased) “I should have been helping with making queer people's voices discoverable” this makes it seem like he just didn't do anything and not like the reality that he was actively trying to rewrite history and bury LQBTQIA+ voices under his steaming pile of garbage
also BLAMING YOUTUBE AND THE ALGORITHM FOR ‘PUSHING HIM’ because he's cis and white, like maybe they did, I certainly wouldn't be surprised, but that is not why other creators suffered, a large part of that can be attributed to James Somerton stealing their work without any acknowledgement whatsoever apart maybe if they are lucky, a “based on” in the credits or their name flashing on screen for half a second.
“I should have done more to share the voices of other queer people” THAT IMPLIES YOU DID SOMETHING. YOU WERE ACTIVELY WORKING AGAINST THAT YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT-
“it was just my dweam to be a youtubew and when my videos gained twaction i felt pwessuwed to make mowe vewy quickly and that's why they wewe so shit uwu” fuck off you weren't pressured into shit you just wanted to make money and that's why you were a content mill
“early on I thought that crediting authors in the opening credits alone was enough” what about the times YOU DIDN'T EVEN DO THAT??? YOU'RE MAKING THIS SEEM LIKE THE DRAMA IS ABOUT YOU CREDITING PEOPLE WRONG WHEN ITS ABOUT YOUR SYSTEMATIC THEFT AND OPPRESSION OF THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE VIDEOS FOR AND ABOUT AND THOSE YOU CLAIM TO MAKE A SAFE SPACE FOR. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK WATCHES YOUR VIDEOS?? WE KNOW WHAT YOU DID YOU CAN'T JUST PLAY IT DOWN
not him using Hbomberguy's example of the DEEP CUTS: SOCIETY AND QUEER HORROR video and claiming he credited all people in the opening scene when Hbomberguy highlighted he DIDNT EVEN CREDIT MOST OF THEM FUCK OFF ARE YOU DELUSIONAL HOW DO YOU THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS
I think I'm going insane this all seems so blatantly fake. he brings up the evil queens video and how he asked Sean Griffin, retroactively, permission to include his work in the video. and he shows a ‘screenshot’ of an email Griffin allegedly wrote to thank him for putting him in the title-card and that he thinks it is ‘a very thoughtful video’. only the text of the email header, such as Griffin's name, the RE:, and the To: is a lot smaller than the ‘text’ in the email, which leads me to believe that the below text is edited in some way. And with how hard James is trying to rewrite history, it wouldn't surprise me if he literally rewrote the email or cut things out to present himself in a more positive light. obviously I can't prove that the email is fake but I'll just say that I think the likelihood is very high that it is.
the way he says this also implies that he asked for permission after he made the video but hadn't published it yet. which is also blatantly false.
again trying to waltz off responsibility on nick, saying he was much more interested in production and implying that nick did all the writing .
“nick and I had both grown up poor so when I lost my job in 2021 (approx.) we of course were desperate and turned to producing videos even quicker and plagiarising the fuck out of all of them! but we can't help it we were both poor as kids!” fuck off, you weren't poor when plagiarising every-fucking-thing, this was in “the second year of COVID”. obviously if they really did grow up poor that sucks, and that's why we should eat the rich and redistribute their money. not plagiarise people who partly are poor or not financially cushy and manipulate thousands of people into believing you are the only queer creator.
also milking his mom's cancer. if you were really that worried about your financial situation, one would think that you would get an actual job for security and not put everything into your youtube career that is unstable, especially considering you've already done a lot of plagiarism and have no intention of stopping. “oh I plagiarised because my mom had cancer QAQ” that is so digusting to use a person's medical condition like that.
“i have memory issues because of a head injury i suffered as a child and that's why I plagiarise badly. see, I copy pasted the text with the intention to rephrase it later but forgot.” that would still be fucking plagiarism if he'd done that, also, if he's so aware of his memory issues and how they lead to him plagiarising, why didn't he try to work around that? leave himself notes? or tell nick to remind him to integrate actual proper credit and citations before uploading a video? mark the plagiarised stuff in the document with like highlighter or so when you're pasting it in?? oh but he didn't do all of that because he has ADHD. now, ADHD can be debilitating, but he says it's recently diagnosed so it must not have caused a lot of problems for him so far, so it's probably not severe and even if it is, it doesn't excuse him not crediting people properly. stop fucking hiding behind things ‘you can’t change' because if you truly can't you probably shouldn't be doing this in the first place.
“my mom really wanted me to make a movie with her life insurance but that wasn't paid out so I decided to crowdfund it. i planned to underpay the actors so hard it was under union wages. we got more money than we were expecting and upgraded to wanting to film a feature (final girl) but i didn't want to start working on it until the campaign was over for some reason that totally isn't me just wanting to exploit people for money!”
I'm not gonna go into the Telos stuff but he tries to explain it by claiming it was very unorganised and that's why they constantly ran into issues and that's why nothing ever got done and they were JUST about to start doing stuff when the Hbomberguy video released. You know what, I can believe it, although I am very doubtful considering all James ever does is lie. Idk. 
once again trying to excuse his plagiarism with needing to pay two rents and thus needing to make more videos for more sponsors and not having the time to not plagiarise like please. i don't believe that they were in that dire need of money and if they were - just get a fucking stable job and put youtube on the backburner. 
also once again trying to make it all about him by once again talking about his suicide attempt and death threats. like. no one should suffer through that kind of mental anguish but honestly I cannot bring myself to feel sympathy for this man. and i see this as an attempt to gather pity points.
“nick worked very hard on these videos other three years and it's unfair to [them] (james says that they're non-binary but doesn't indicate their pronouns anywhere? and in the beginning he uses they/them but later only he/him so idk what their pronouns are but it seems like they/them is at least part of their pronouns so i'm just going to use that) that they all got taken down” well y'all shouldn't have fucking plagiarised then. let this be a lesson maybe and don't fucking show your face on youtube again!
he is fucking relaunching his channel. like james. this isn't something you come back from. no one will ever be able to trust you ever again and you don't deserve an audience. he claims all the revenue will go to Hbomberguy's fund but we have no way to verify this. we have no way to know just how much he makes and how much of that is actually going to the fund. i don't trust him with any money. which is why i watched a reupload rather than the original. he's also releasing a new video he claims is entirely by him. like?????? don't???????
he also might not relaunch his existing patreon but he's still making a new one.
he claims he will “work his ass off” to make non-plagiarised videos. like that isn't “working your ass off” that's the bare fucking minimum. I really want to trust him. and I want to believe he'll actually try to do better. and maybe he will. and i believe in second chances, even for someone as despicable as him. but throughout this video he has continuously tried to play down what he did. tried to make excuses for everything. and that's why i am not going to give him a second chance. if he can't even admit what he did i don't trust him to not do it again. and i also just plainly don't want to endorse a person making such arguments.
also, he plugs his fucking new patreon right after this.
“this video is not about me promoting myself. it's about me apologising.” the only fucking person you actually ‘apologised’ to is Jessie Gender. 
James Somerton: makes a billion fucking excuses. Also James Somerton: “These are not excuses. There is no excuse for what I did.”
this entire video was just a publicity stunt. he tries to humanise himself and repair his image. this is just a tool to be able to continue on and continue making money.
he also still claims the disney video was based on the Celluloid Closet and he credited the author and ignores that this wasn't the only author he fucking plagiarised in that video. he is trying to reduce his plagiarsm to incorrect crediting and mistakes and that is disgusting.
the least he could have done was mention by name out loud every author he plagiarised and what work he plagiarised. not just say “uuuh i'm sorry to everyone I plagiarised QAQ”
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honeyedmiller · 8 months
Text
Firsts | Javier Peña
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pairing: javier peña x f!reader
warnings: smut (f & m oral receiving, unprotected piv, fingering, slight size kink?), cursing, teasing, tension, some tooth-rotting tender fluff, no use of y/n. 18+. minors dni.
word count: 4.9k
synopsis: Agent Peña is determined to give you something you've been craving for a long time.
not revised. sorry for any mistakes :')
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Javier Peña never let anyone sleep in his bed.
Sure, he's had multiple women in it, but not once had any of them ever stayed longer than a little aftercare from the Agent himself. He used those women to get information; fucked them so good they just couldn't stop sputtering where they've seen this guy or how they know this other man. And, deep down, he used them to fill an empty void in his heart of loneliness—something he was no stranger to, but wanted to avoid altogether.
No woman had ever slept in his bed, until you.
See, if anyone told you months ago that you would've even spared Agent Peña a proper non-work related conversation this time around, you both would call bullshit.
It all started out in the field, a few months ago. Steve kept nagging Peña about his little crush on you, and it drove him crazy that you were the only woman in the office that wouldn't give him the time of day. Of course you talked to him about work related things, puzzling together the missing pieces to finally fucking catch Escobar.
Tensions were at an all-time high in the office, and the last thing on your mind was tossing the insatiable Agent a flirty smile. You were an intense, strong-willed go-getter who was an absolute badass in the field. Even the Colombian military and police liked to work with you, which was good, because it meant they'd cooperate more with the DEA. Flirting, especially with a coworker nonetheless, was completely off limits and your one set-in-stone rule you had for yourself.
You were no stranger to the rumors roaming about that Agent Peña was a good fuck. You were also no stranger to the giggles and nudges your female colleagues gave you when they caught him staring at you. You just chose to ignore them.
It wasn't until one late night in the office that had everyone exhausted and quite literally ready to get back to the States that you gave Peña the time of day.
Steve had told the man something rather interesting that day, which he knew you'd kill him for, but he thought it was worth Javier knowing. When you went over to Steve and Connie's place to have 'girl's night' with his wife, he overheard you say that no man has ever been able to make you orgasm.
Steve immediately thought of Javier when that information sprouted, and of course, being the wingman he was for Peña, he told him. Peña wanted nothing more than to be the man that could give that to you. Luckily for him, he was sort of an expert in that area, which is why all those women he fucked ended up talking.
You never paid any mind to how suave Peña could be, mainly because you genuinely weren’t interested. Your disinterest in the Agent bothered him at first, as you shot down all of his advances and flirting tactics. It just determined him further. It’s not like he kept harassing you or anything, but he tried his best to do little things for you here and there like get you a coffee when you needed it the most or a file that would help you in the spur of the moment.
On this particular night, it was just you and Peña left in the office. The two of you were paired up for a specific assignment because Murphy was unavailable, and the assignment needed to be done quickly.
You were efficient with your work, but having the Agent stare at you like a meal on legs wasn’t helping. You couldn’t deny that he was a good looking man. A man you swore you’d pay no mind to, and up until now, it was working.
“Can I help you Peña?” You ask without looking up from your paperwork. You were jotting something down when he cleared his throat, straightening in his seat.
“I think I should be asking you that, Agent.” He shot back incredulously, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head. He gave you a smug look, and his words halted your writing mid-sentence.
“Excuse me?” You look up at him, quirking an irritated brow. Though, you found yourself faltering to his heavy gaze; hooded puppy dog eyes making your panties dampen a bit. You squeezed your legs together, ignoring the nagging feelings of want and desire.
“Heard that no man’s ever been able to please you.” He tilts his head and eyes you, from your intense gaze down to the way the first couple of buttons of your work top were unbuttoned.
You scoff in disbelief. You know Connie would never say a word, so it had to’ve been Steve fucking Murphy.
Bastard.
“I don’t see how my dilemma in my personal life has anything to do with our work, Peña.”
“I was just simply observing.”
“Well you don’t work for the BAU. Stop trying to profile me.” You snap, rolling your eyes.
He holds his hands up in defense. “You know, cariño, I could help relieve you of your tension. Noticed you’ve been real… irritable, these days.”
You shoot him a nasty glare.
“Fuck you, Peña.”
“If that's what you'd like, baby. And I’d prefer it if you called me Javi.”
“I’m not one of your whores. We don’t need to be on a first name basis.” Your tone was cold as you looked back down to your papers, annoyed at the fact that you were getting turned on by his advances. What you really should've been doing is reporting him to Messina, but it wasn't worth all of the stupid paperwork.
You were cold toward him because you needed to distance yourself. It was your own fucking rule. No flirting with coworkers, even if they're ridiculously hot and tall and tan and broad and—
"Say all you want about not wanting me, but I saw the way your legs clenched and your breathing became more rapid. Why deny yourself a good time, hm?" He tilts his head.
This motherfucker was watching you like clockwork.
You slapped the manila folder that the file was in closed, tucking it into the top drawer of your desk before gathering your things.
"Good night, Peña." You hastily exited the building, fumbling with your car keys to unlock it before getting into your car. You let out a loud sigh, head hitting the back of the headrest as you rubbed your hands over your face in exasperation.
You put the keys in the ignition and left Peña at the office alone with a stupid smirk on his face.
And, that night, you had an even stupider wet dream about the smug-faced Agent.
-
As the week went on, the tension between you and Javier became nearly unbearable. It was stolen glances and soft touches and close proximities that had you stiffening, keeping your guard up to avoid succumbing to the ache in your core. It was the very thing that clawed at you from the inside, begging to be fulfilled.
You had no doubt Javier could be that man, but you were stubborn. You didn't want to give him that satisfaction. Not yet, at least. The insanely hot wet dream you had about him definitely didn't help your case, though. It made you want him to fuck you right there on his desk.
Luckily, you knew you had self control. What you didn't know is that Javier could feel you literally buzzing with anticipation, likely waiting for him to make the first move because you were too proud to do so.
You were in the kitchenette, pouring yourself a fresh cup of coffee when Javier walked in behind you. You didn’t really pay any mind until you felt the heat of his body behind you, and you turned around. Your back was pressed up against the counter as he towered over you, his dark brown gaze ever so enticing.
He reached up into the cabinet behind your head to retrieve a coffee mug himself, never breaking eye contact with you. Your eyes flickered to his lips for a brief second. To anyone else, it would’ve been the world’s most subtle glance. But to Javier, he took it as a message.
Game on.
He lightly brushed his hand against your waist to scoot past you, pouring the remainder of the fresh coffee into the mug he was holding. His touch sent a jolt of tingles down your spine, and you swallowed harshly as you tried to remember how to walk again to get away from him.
“You look beautiful today, cariño.” He simply said, halting you in your tracks. You slowly turn to him, wide-eyed and stunned. Your throat went dry as your lips formed into a tight smile.
“Thank you.” You meekly said before heading back to your desk. In this moment, you wish a black hole could form underneath the ground you walked on and swallow you whole. The affect that Javier had on you was embarrassing, especially because you were very anti-Javier Peña, aka Mr. Sex-On-Legs.
You thinking about him like this, and the undeniable tension between you both was everything you were against. Flirting with coworkers was dangerous and having sexual relations with them was lethal, especially Agents of yours and Javier’s rank. It could easily affect your work environment and being a woman in the field was already hard enough. You didn’t need shit from your counterparts or higher-ups. You wanted to be taken seriously, and giving in to your desires was going to get you anything but.
On the other hand, the need to have your desires fulfilled clawed at you aimlessly. You wanted to experience an orgasm. One that would have your toes curling and eyes rolling back. A fucking earth-shattering one—one that would ruin any other man for you.
Javier would easily oblige and give that to you, but it was up to you to let him do so.
Oh, fuck rules and fuck morals and fuck workplace gossip.
You wanted, no, needed Javier to show you what it was like. So, you decided to play along. You knew you’d both be stuck in the office late again tonight, so you wanted to have a little fun with it.
The first move was rather bold, but you weren’t going to back down now. Later on in the day, you got up from your desk to hand him a file. In doing so, your nimble fingers softly wrapped around one of his thick biceps as you dropped the file down on his desk. You leaned down, your voice barely a whisper.
“Thanks, Javi.” Was all you said before uncurling your fingers from his arm, sashaying away from him. He stared at the back of your figure quite literally stunned, and you saying his name like that had his dick twitching in his pants.
What the hell had gotten into you? He didn’t know where the sudden flirtatious behavior came from, but he was definitely going to find out.
Steve was catching on to what was going on between you, and it was amusing him to no end. It was nice to have a distraction from all the bullshit the DEA has been dealing with regarding Escobar.
By the time everyone was starting to head home, tension was so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife. Steve even threw in a ‘just bone already!’ to the both of you, and Javier couldn’t even stifle the small smile that had curled onto his plush lips.
It was around nine in the evening, and as promised, it was just you and Peña left. He was sitting at his desk when your hands suddenly slid over his shoulders from behind, sliding down to his chest. You reached over him to grab a file you needed without asking him, just so you’d have an excuse to do that.
By that time, he’d had enough of the teasing. Before you could retract your hands completely, he gripped both of your wrists and stood up, spinning your bodies around so you were pushed against his desk.
"Enough of this cat and mouse game. Do you want me or not?" Javier whispered, trapping your body with his against the cold metal of his desk. It almost looked like he was pained, like this whole past week had been hell for him.
And honestly, unbeknownst to you, it had. He laid awake every single night wishing you'd just give in to him. He wanted to treat you right. Worship your body as it should've been worshipped all along. He didn't want to fuck some random woman for intel anymore if it meant he got to be with you.
You were too stunned to speak, and quite honestly, the arousal pooling in your panties was way too noticeable to ignore at this point. You nodded your head, breath ragged and cheeks flushed.
"Gracias a Dios." He murmured. He cupped your face with both hands, finally sealing the space between you both as he brought his lips to yours. As cliché as it sounded, your whole body reacted to his touch as you felt sparks when his lips moved with yours. You dropped the file in your hand onto his desk behind you before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer.
He gripped your thighs and easily hoisted you up onto his desk, moving between your legs to be as close as he possibly could. You moaned softly when your clit caught onto the seam of your jeans, and you could feel Javier's growing bulge against your jean-clad core.
If it wasn't going to be your first time with him, he would've happily taken you right here on his desk. But, he wasn't a total asshole.
"Come back to my place with me," He sighed against your lips. "I can take better care of you there."
You nodded vigorously in agreement, and you both hastily gathered your things before heading out to Javier's Jeep.
He opened the door for you and you softly thanked him, trying to catch your breath and steady your heart rate from everything that just happened. You hadn't even gotten to the best part of this all and you were already falling apart at the seams. It'd been awhile since you've had any special kind of attention like that in general, so it really wasn't helping your case.
Javier clambered into the driver's seat, starting up his car to head back to his apartment. A naughty idea crossed your mind, and you'd be completely humiliated if Javier rejected your advances.
Fuck it.
You reached your left hand over, rubbing his now completely erect cock through the fabric of his jeans. He twitched slightly, giving you a look with burning desire. His eyes snapped back to the road thinking you were going to stop there, but boy was he wrong.
You began to undo his belt as best as you could given your position, and you swiftly unbuttoned and zipped down his jeans.
"Wh-what are you doing?" His voice was hoarse, eyes going wide.
"Relieving you." Was all you said before tugging his jeans down the right amount so you could take his cock out of his boxers.
He was thick and heavy, the head already bedaubed with pre cum. Your mouth watered at the sight, seeing that he had girth and a good length.
He inhaled sharply when your thumb ran over the swollen flesh of his weeping head. You wasted no time, giving his shaft a few pumps before taking him into your mouth. He hissed in pleasure, the feeling of your mouth so wet and warm around him. The sounds you elicited while pleasuring him were nothing short of erotic, and it was driving him crazy.
"Fuuuck. Yeah, just like that baby." Javier coaxed you on, wrapping his fingers in your hair. His other hand was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were turning a ghost-white color. You kept going, easily licking up his silky flesh before deciding to try and take him all into your mouth.
You eased down slowly until your nose was eventually met with the dark, coarse curls at the base of his cock. Javier accidentally hit a bump in the road at the same time your mouth was completely full of him, so it made you gag around his length.
He nearly came right then and there.
"Fuck, okay, okay," He panted, gently gripping your hair to bring your mouth up and off of his cock. "I don't want to cum yet."
You pouted at him, wanting to taste him as you made him cum. Another time, you suppose. You helped him get his boxers back up over his still painfully erect member, pants following suit.
It was only a couple of more minutes before Javier parked outside of his apartment building, nearly dragging you upstairs and into his place. Once the door was closed, he pushed you up against it, capturing your mouth onto his once again. He moved you away from the door and to the couch, where he sat down so you could straddle him. It was a bit hard with the tight jeans you were wearing, but not unmanageable.
His tongue slipped over yours furiously, teeth clashing together as you both simply seemed like you just couldn't get enough of one another.
His mouth moved from yours down to your neck, leaving hot, sloppy kisses in its wake. He got to one spot on your neck just below your ear that had you shuddering with pleasure, and he chuckled softly at that.
He nipped at that particular spot and licked over it, repeating the action a few times until you found yourself grinding your hips into him. The ache in your core was unbearable, and all you wanted was to just be touched.
"Javi, please." You weren't above begging at this point, because fuck did you want his fingers in you and his tongue on you.
"Please what, princesa?" He rasped, grabbing your ass harshly as he purposefully rutted your hips against his.
"I- fuck- need you to touch me. Please." You whine, biting your lip as you look down at him with a pout. He groaned quietly when you gave him that look of feening innocence.
His lips attached themselves to yours again before he grabbed the back of your thighs, parting from your lips to take you to his bedroom. You kissed his neck while he was walking, giving it one long lick up to his ear before he placed you down on his bed.
He hovered over you, placing one knee in between your legs. He grabbed the hem of your shirt before slowly lifting it up and over your head, eyeing the soft flesh of your breasts that spilled out of your bra from this position. His mouth found itself on aforementioned flesh, lightly nipping and sucking down the valley before moving down to your torso. He eventually got to the hem of your jeans, to which he took his time in taking off.
He carefully undid your belt, then the button and zipper. He shimmied the material off of your legs, staring at your nearly naked body in pure hunger and want. He noticed the dark patch of wetness on your panties, and he teasingly chuckled.
"All this for me, baby? Haven't even touched you yet." He cooed, moving between your thighs. He gave your sopping clothed core a kiss, then proceeded to lick over the wet fabric. You moaned, gripping onto his shoulders.
"Need you, Javi." Your words were nearly incoherent as they squeezed out of your throat. You didn't know how else to make the man just devour you already.
"I know, baby. Need you too." Was all he said before gripping your panties and sliding them down your legs. His gaze met your glistening core, and he hummed at the sight.
He got on his knees at the edge of the bed before wrapping his arms around your thighs, tugging you down so your legs dangled off the edge. He moved both of your legs so your calves rested on his shoulders which flexed underneath the leather jacket he was wearing.
He dragged his lips slowly up the inside of your thighs, kissing your core once, before dragging his lips back down. He repeated that twice before he finally decided to stop being a tease and devour you shamelessly. He lapped up your existing arousal before softly sucking on your clit, moving his tongue down your folds and into you a few times before just focusing on your clit. He took his middle and ring finger and slipped them both into you, the thick stretch of his fingers nearly sending you over the edge.
You couldn't fucking believe it. All these years, no man has ever been remotely close to even making you cum, and then Javier Peña comes along. He nearly had you unraveling with just his tongue and fingers with such ease that it honest to god seemed way too fucking good to be true.
"Baby you taste so goddamn good. Fuck." Javier mewled, pulling his fingers out of you. He reattached his lips to your clit as he gripped your thighs tighter. You were rolling your hips into his face at this point, but he was making movement nearly impossible with the weight of his arms.
He then solely focused on your entrance, swirling his tongue teasingly around you before slipping his tongue inside of you over and over again. You choked on a gasp at the sensation, feeling a nearly foreign tightening sensation in the pit of your core.
"Javi." You whined, the sensation getting stronger and stronger until your body trembled, a lick of flames coursing through you as you cried out. You convulsed around Javier's tongue as you came, tears pricking the corner of your eyes at the heavenly sensation. He lapped up your sweet arousal, moaning against you before pulling away.
Your chest was heaving up and down uncontrollably ears ringing and mind hazy.
Javier looked down at your disheveled state, truly quite honored to be the first man to ever make you orgasm. He leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to your lips, tasting your own arousal as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You gripped both sides of his face as your lungs began to burn, desperate for some air. You separated from him reluctantly, looking up into his eyes.
The sight before him was truly pornographic. Your hair was disheveled, eyes glossed over and parted, swollen lips glazed with your own cum as you breathed rapidly. As his eyes traveled south, one of your bra straps hung off of your shoulders and your manicured hand rested on your abdomen. Your legs were spread just for him, and he wished he could take a photo of you like this. Not to be a creep, but because you belonged in a museum.
Part of him was secretly happily selfish that he was the only one who could see you like this in this moment, though. To look so fucked out and needy because of him. The thought alone nearly made him cum in his pants.
"How do you feel, corazón?" He asked, standing up to finally take the constraints off of his erection. He groaned softly at the release as his cock hit his stomach, still red and weeping and glistening with pre cum.
"Amazing." Was all you could muster up before hooking your legs around him, causing him to topple over you. He laughed at your sudden movements, both hands resting on either side of your head. Your hands found purchase on either side of his face, thumbs softly caressing his cheeks.
No one had ever been so affectionate with him. A warm feeling invaded his stomach, eyes feverishly scanning yours.
"You have a beautiful smile and laugh, Javi. Why don't you do it more?" You ask, brushing a curl off of his forehead. He leaned down and nudged his nose with yours, softly kissing your lips.
"I'll do it more for you, corazón." He whispers, and you pull him down for another kiss. This one was soft and slow, a much different pace than the previous ones. This one was full of tenderness and care, something you both desperately wanted but never seemed to get.
In the midst of the slow kiss, Javier moved one hand down to grab his cock so he could slide it between your folds. You gasped against his lips and he peered down at you with a gentle gaze, searching your eyes for permission. You grabbed the sides of his legs gently, silently letting him know it was okay.
He pushed into you slowly, and you closed your eyes at the sensation. He stretched you in a way that was so heady, having you feel so full when he got to the hilt. You closed your eyes in pure bliss, and Javier leaned down once more to kiss your forehead softly. Your eyes fluttered open again and met his soft gaze.
"Keep your eyes open and on me, cariño. Wanna see you." He says as he juts his hips forward, causing you to suck in a breath through your teeth.
He started to pump in and out of you languidly at first, but then it became rapid hip snaps against yours. The sound of pounding flesh and ragged breathing was all that was heard in the room. Javier made sure to kiss you everywhere he could possibly reach in this position, even moving down to softly suckle on your erect nipples after tossing your bra somewhere in the room amidst all of this.
Pleasure washed over your body and you felt that familiar heat licking your core once again. He paused for a second to bring your calves back up to his shoulders, this new angle hitting even deeper inside of you. It was hitting a spot you didn't even know was possible. You cried out his name as you tried to keep your eyes open, but it was nearly impossible with the way he was thrusting so deliciously into you.
"Javi, fuck, I'm gonna cum again." You cry, clawing at the bedsheets.
"Yeah? Go ahead, princesa, I'm right here. I've got you." He says, keeping his pace steady. He felt his own orgasm slowly building, and he knew it was a matter of time before he found his own release. Before your hazy mind could even process it, your body was shuttering again as you clamped tightly around his cock. Your orgasm washed over you once more, a little stronger than the last time.
You were so spent and fucked out, but Javier kept going. He was so close to his release, and he wanted to make you cum for him one more time.
"One more time, baby. C'mon, I know you got it in you." His teeth are gritted, jaw clenched and face so determined.
"Fuck, Javi, I-I can't." You cry, your breathlessness catching up to you. Your lungs were constricting and it was hard to breathe, but it burned so fucking good.
"Yes you can baby. I know it." He says, snapping his hips against yours at a relentless pace as he moved a hand down to rub swiftly over your already abused and overstimulated clit.
"Fuck!" You cried, clamping down on him once more but this time, a gush came out of you. That was enough to send Javier over the edge.
"Where do you want me?" His voice was so severely strangled that you barely understood him, and understood the fact that you only had a couple of seconds to answer him.
"Inside, please. Need you." You clawed at his back now, feeling his warmth spill into you at your words. His hips stuttered as they slowed to a halt, and both of you spent several minutes trying to catch your breaths.
He pulled out of you slowly, both of you groaning at the loss of contact. He plopped down beside you, sweat adorning both of your bodies as your chests heaved up and down.
"Fuck, Javi. That was..." You started once you controlled the raggedness of your breath.
"I'm glad." He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your cheek. You both sat in silence as you propped yourself up on your elbow, tracing mindless patterns on his bare chest with your fingertips.
"I should probably head out soon." Your voice is meek once again.
"Actually, I was hoping you'd want to stay." Javier says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You hesitated for a moment, before nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'd like that."
And so you and the Agent you swore you despised just days prior to this cuddled up in his bed, not worried about the repercussions that would follow in the morning.
Not the fact that your car was still there at the office and Javier's wasn't, not the fact that you'd be wearing a button-down shirt of his that was way too big on you to work the next day, and definitely not the fact that you two were much friendlier and touchier now more than ever.
It most definitely didn't have anything to do with the fact that you both provided something to each other you haven't had in a long time—
firsts.
-
hehehe hope u enjoyed @cool-iguana ily :')
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explorevenus · 1 year
Text
something permanent ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader
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nsfw (18+) - minors pls dni i will scream
this is a dark fic for a multitude of reasons. if any of the following bothers/triggers you, do not read: yandere!leon, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, noncon, forced breeding, body horror, gore, & blood
in other words-- DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT.
ahem. now that that’s over.
word count - 4.4k
description - nothing in leon’s life was ever permanent and his life circumstances made sure of that. over the years he was beaten down from a bright-eyed rookie police officer to a weary and angry shell of his former self. when a chance meeting brought you into his life, he knew what he had to do. he knew you had to be something permanent.
tags/warnings - yandere!leon, dark!leon, leon being patronizing and condescending and sickly sweet, fem/afab!reader, stalking, kidnapping, drugging, corruption/training, forced daddy kink, pet names (doll, sweetheart, princess, baby, puppy, etc.), noncon, forced breeding, housewife kink, body horror (spoiler alert he rips your IUD out with his bare hands), slight gore, blood, noncon, stockholm syndrome if u squint, dollification if u squint, descriptions of vomiting, no use of (Y/N)
a/n - ok i genuinely don’t know if anyone even wants this but i personally find it egregious how little yandere!leon content exists out there in this world because listen. i know a lot of people consider leon submissive and breedable but personally i believe this broken angry man just wants a sweet little thing to dote on and take care of to make him forget about the horrors of his life and he will stop at nothing to make that happen ♡ anyways. enjoy. and if it’s not ur cup of tea idc keep scrolling :^)
p.s. this is obviously a very canon-deviant, borderline crack fic so it’s not really established which leon this is outside of referring to the events of re2 being a long time ago, so go wild with your interpretation of that to read this as whichever leon is ur favorite ♡ i personally like to imagine post-re4 or infinite darkness leon !! ;w;
read part 2 here !! ♡
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ♡
-venus ♡
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You were slow to wake, which wasn't particularly unusual... as of late, but your body felt so heavy, like your muscles had dissolved into mush overnight. Consciousness gradually took its hold of you, and as it did, you began to realize that something seemed off. Different. Wrong, even. You peeked your eyes open, vision blurry with sleep, but you could see you were beneath your pink comforter, a plush of yours held closely to your chest, all normal so far...
But your walls aren't navy blue, they're white... They're supposed to be white--
You jolted wide awake, panic coursing through your weak body as you struggled to even sit up. That's when you noticed an unfamiliar, muscular arm draped over your waist, and that dialed up your anxiety about tenfold. It was hard to move, but you were able to turn your head enough to catch a look at the man it belonged to.
Strong, blond, maybe a bit tired in the eyes... maybe a bit familiar looking... but you were crying now, blurring your sight all over again.
"Shh, shh... you're okay, sweetheart, you're safe now," He hushed, holding you closely to him as you struggled. Smooching the top of your head, he spoke into your messy hair, "I've got you. I've got you, princess."
But... how? The last thing you remembered was tucking into your own bed, in your own apartment, and falling asleep there, how could you have possibly wound up in a stranger's bed with zero recollection of ever leaving yours? Your head spun as you tried and failed to fend off the unwanted affection with weak arms. His hold on you didn't dare budge as he continued to coo softly into your ear, to reassure you that you were safe, that he wouldn't let anyone, or anything, hurt you.
The anxiety stewing within you finally reached a tipping point, twisting your stomach into tight knots, and that's when you spoke your first words since you'd awoken. "I-I'm gonna throw up," You wept, clawing weakly at the covers and, well, at him, for freedom. 
Thankfully he was quick to act, scooping you into his arms as he sat up and rose from the bed, carrying you to the adjoined bathroom. When he turned the light on, you managed to get a better look at his face as you passed by the mirror, and it took you a second to recognize him, partly due to your state of delirium, but primarily because you only knew him very vaguely. You had only met him once at work many months ago, when he'd sparked up a conversation with you as you made him his coffee. After that, he became a regular at the café you worked at-- you remembered his name was Leon.
So why were you waking up in his bed, with your belongings lying around like you'd lived here the whole time?
Your knees hit the tile and you began retching immediately, flinching as he reached forward to collect your hair away from your face. Puking on an empty stomach is never a fun time, but your nerves were alight with panic and every time you reminded yourself of your predicament, a new wave of nausea would crash over you. He rubbed your back sweetly, but it didn't help.
Once the vomiting eventually subsided, an awful, hollow pain took place of it. Your thoughts were running at a thousand miles per hour. You didn't have the time to acknowledge it, let alone nurse it, outside of clutching your shirt at the waist. 
"Let me get you some water, babe," Leon said as he hesitantly stood from your side, eyeing you worriedly like you'd just fall to pieces if he let you out of his sight. "You poor thing..."
But all you could think about was getting out of here. "N-No, no, what time is it? I have to get to work--"
"I don't think so, sweetheart," He interrupted. "You're sick, you should be in bed."
"I'm fine," Much to the protest of your jellied legs, you pushed yourself up from the floor and fought through the head rush in an attempt to slip past him, but he simply caught you at the waist and brought you to a halt. Your ears were ringing, the room spinning around you, and you still weren't sure how to interpret what was even going on here. "L-Let go of me!" You cried out.
He simply hushed you, holding you tightly to his chest and petting your hair as you writhed, failing miserably to get him off of you. "Don't worry about work, okay? Just rest up and get better. I'll call them for you."
Your stomach sank even further-- what the fuck is happening right now? 
Despite your thrashing he managed to lead you back to the bed as gently as one would fine china, scooping you up into his arms so he could lay you down exactly where you'd awoken earlier. Your chest heaved with sobs as you shrank into yourself in an effort to get away from him.
His eyes left you for just a moment as he reached for the covers, no doubt to tuck you in-- in a split second decision, you seized that time to scramble out of his bed and break for the door. Sadly, as perhaps you should have seen coming, he was more than strong and fast enough to catch up to you, even caught off guard. As soon as your shaking hand made contact with the cool metal doorknob, he halted you where you stood with a bruising grip on your bicep.
You cried out, trying in vain to peel yourself away from him, but it was no use.
"Come on, silly baby, you heard me," He tsked, dragging you back toward the bed. "No need to be running off anywhere, especially on a sour stomach."
"P-Please--" You gasped through tears.
"I'm sorry, little one, but that's final," Leon hummed with a patronizing but oddly sweet tone. It was as if he were scolding a temperamental child.
He basically wrestled you back into the bed, enveloping you tightly in his arms as he laid down beside you. You struggled against his grasp, but again, it was absolutely no use. He simply pet your hair and pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw, attempting to soothe you with restraint and unwanted affection. 
You sucked in a labored breath, hiccupping, "Don't do this to me, please don't do this to me... I-I just wa-wanna go home, jus' wanna go h-home... Leon please--"
"Shh... oh, good heavens. You are home, princess," He mused, brushing away a stream of your hot tears with his thumb. "You'll see. Just relax and let me take care of you."
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Nothing in Leon's life was ever permanent.
All he'd ever wanted was the American dream, to serve his community and meet a pretty girl to share his life with, to settle down in a big house with a fenced yard and two or three little Kennedys running around, maybe a dog. What he wouldn't give to come home at the end of a long day to his beautiful wife, belly swollen with his children, preparing dinner in the kitchen while the existing little ones play with their toys in the other room.
He would enter, slipping off his shoes with a relaxed sigh and a "Honey, I'm home!" to which the aforementioned little ones would rush to the door to hug him at his knees. He'd put one up on his shoulders while the other tugged at his hand, turning into the kitchen to give his beautiful wife a kiss. She would ask of his day and he would say it was good, but better now that he's home with her. With his free hand he would cradle her belly and ask "What's for dinner, you two?" to which she would reply "Your favorite," and as he smiled and thanked her with a kiss he would be silently plotting to thank her properly after the kids are asleep by fucking her full of his cum.
That was all he'd ever wanted. But, day after day after god forsaken day, the chance grew slimmer and slimmer until it had shriveled into something molecular. He didn't even get through his first day at the police station before everything went to shit.
Because of this, Leon began to lose himself over the years. He was no longer the bright-eyed rookie officer looking forward to his even brighter future. He was a broken man, worn down to the bone by years of death, plague, losing everyone he'd ever loved in one way or another-- Leon couldn't take the loss anymore. He wanted-- no, needed-- something permanent, something to give him even the slightest taste of that dream he once had.
When he met you, it wasn't even a question anymore. He knew you were the one. One way or another, he would have you.
He couldn't court you in the traditional way, of course-- it was too dangerous for you to be seen with him. After all, everything he'd ever touched had a way of turning to shit. So, it began with following you home after work so he'd know where you lived. Soon after that he would let himself in when you weren't home-- you weren't smart enough not to keep your key under the mat, furthering how sure he felt that you needed him to take care of you-- he would take little things of yours home with him just to have your scent around.
At first it was just little things like near-empty bottles of shampoo and stray pairs of panties from your laundry basket. Then it was sweaters from your closet, chewed gum and used flossers from your trash can. He'd pay close attention to your grocery lists and what you kept in your pantry so he'd know what kind of food you liked. 
When you did come home, he would sneak out quietly and watch you through your windows, familiarizing himself with your routine. The first thing you'd do when you came home from a long day of work was kick off your heels and change into something comfortable to do your yoga. After a while, you'd pull yourself up from the pink mat and cook dinner. After you'd eat, you'd relax with a book or a video game for a bit before taking a shower and changing into pajamas. Then, you'd brew yourself a mug of tea and retire to the bedroom for the evening where you'd watch documentaries or put on white noise until you eventually fell asleep.
At 7:00 a.m., you'd wake up in the morning and do it all over again.
All he could think about was what he'd do when he finally had you all to himself. Under his roof, you would never have to work another day in your life. Gone would be the days of pouring coffee and baking pastries for random idiots who treated you like shit. All you would ever have to worry about is being pampered, having your entire day to yourself, waiting for him to come home, spending all the money on his credit cards.
And carrying his children, of course.
So, as he held you tightly in his arms while you sobbed and begged to go back to that tiny apartment, all he could think about now was how to fix this. How to convince you he really loved you, how to make you feel truly at home.
The first few weeks were hard for him. Really, really hard.
You were refusing to eat, laying wide awake at night, swinging rapidly between sobbing, screaming and complete apathy. Sometimes he would come into the bedroom and catch you fiddling with the window, or attempting to circumvent the lock on the door by stuffing the mechanism with tissue. You would hit him, kick at him and spit in his face, even as you grew weaker and weaker with malnourishment, not that you really stood a chance before that anyway.
Still, it was hard to watch you shrink in your clothes. It was hard to see your cheeks hollowing by the day. It was hard to hold back your brittle hair while you'd vomit from the nerves, still trying to fight him off of you. It was hard to watch your body tense every time he entered the room.
Just when he'd began to lose hope, he discovered a neat little tool to help you behave. In some countries it was called "devil's breath." The slightest bit of powder could be sprinkled into your water, or over your food, or even into your clothes-- it absorbs through the skin-- and within minutes it would render you quite pliable. Leon didn't want to drug you, of course-- he liked you better when you were lucid-- but it certainly felt like a good place to start, a helpful tool to train you.
When he'd give you a dose, you would let him coddle you without incident. You would lay limp on his chest while he played with your hair and felt your soft skin beneath your shirt. You would allow him to spoon food or tip water into your mouth. You would let him dress you up like his perfect little dolly. You would blush and whimper and whine, and more importantly, not fight him, while he fucked you full of his cum, just like his dream.
There was just one problem-- after about two months of trying daily, it would seem his seed wasn't taking.
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Your heart pounded in your ears as the sound of Leon's footsteps nearing the bedroom door grew louder. You glanced over at the clock-- it was 6:15. He was off work for the evening and you knew what that meant.
The lock clicked quietly before the door creaked open, revealing your captor.
"Honey, I'm home!" He smiled excitedly, approaching the bed with a glass of water in hand.
You knew it was for you. You knew he had done something to it. You also knew you didn't intend to drink it.
"W-Welcome home, daddy," You said in a near whisper, forcing a half-smile. While you had definitely lost the majority of the fight in you, that didn't mean it didn't nauseate you to comply with his wishes. "Did you have a good day?"
Tucking your hair behind your ear, he offered you the glass of water while he replied as he always did, "My day was fine, but it's so much better now that I'm home with you, princess."
You smiled at him like it was the first time he'd ever said it, taking the glass with a shaking hand. You stared at it for a moment before mustering up the courage to say, "D-Daddy, I don't want the medicine anymore. I don't think I need it, and it doesn't make me feel good."
"You don't want your medicine anymore, baby?" He asked, tipping your chin up to look at him. You shook your head, rounding your eyes to convince him that much more. "Well, alright, but you have to promise to behave for me."
Now you were nodding, a little bit too eagerly. It was sort of humiliating. "I promise, daddy, I'll behave! I don't want the medicine anymore. I promise I'll be good."
With a proud grin he took the glass from your hand and set it on the nightstand, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "That's what I like to hear, babydoll. You know, good little girls get rewarded..." His large hand spread over your thigh, inching up toward the hem of your baggy shirt.
You stiffened, but didn't push him away. He smirked, dipping his head down to kiss at your neck, large hand sliding up your shirt until he nudged it up enough to pull it off. You were bare for him now, save for panties, and given your experience with him you knew it wouldn't be long until those were discarded somewhere across the room. With a gentle hand at your shoulder he pushed you onto your back, your legs hanging off the side of the bed, and you were curious where he was going with that until he sank to his knees in front of you and began pulling your panties down.
Your eyes screwed shut, thankful that he couldn't see your face as he spread your thighs and greeted your cunt with a slow lick up the length of you. You gripped the sheets with white knuckles, pretty much holding your breath to keep yourself from kicking him away from you. His fingertips buried into the plush skin of your thighs to hold you apart as he began to eat you out more passionately, suckling your clit up into his mouth and lapping at your hole like he was starving.
If there was one thing you would give him credit for, it would be his skilled tongue. Perhaps he was crazy and obsessed, but he certainly knew how to translate that obsession into something that benefitted you both. You wouldn't have succumbed to it so willingly if he weren't at least good at it.
Still, it was hard to feel any enthusiasm. His attention might have felt good physically, but it certainly didn't feel good mentally. 
You flinched when you felt a fingertip prodding at your cunt. He pulled away just far enough to tsk, "Relax and let me make you feel good, puppy. You said you would behave for me."
"Y-Yes, daddy," You muttered, continuing to clutch the sheets as you tried to control your breathing.
His thick index finger sank into you down to the knuckle, almost immediately curling up to brush against the spongy spot within you that made you see stars. As much as you tried to fight it you gasped, quickly bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, but the sound you'd made hadn't slipped past Leon. You felt him smirk against your skin as he pressed sloppy kisses to your thigh, reaching up with his free hand to force yours away from your face.
"Don't be shy, princess," He spoke against the inside of your thigh, trailing kisses up to your clit. "I want to hear just how good it feels."
You whimpered, hips squirming into his affection, and he chuckled approvingly, bringing his mouth back to you fully to continue eating you out while he fucked his finger into you. Soon after his index finger was joined by his middle, and you keened as he reached more deeply into you than he possibly ever had.
He pumped his fingers in and out for a moment, alternating between lapping at your cunt and kissing your thighs, and just as the coil inside began to tighten he suddenly... stopped?
You waited for a second, catching your breath, expecting him to continue any minute. But he didn't. Instead, he took on a tone that froze your blood as he asked, "Sweetheart, what is this?"
Then, you felt a sharp tug at your insides that made you yelp.
"Leon!" You shouted at him in a break of character, attempting to scoot away from him, but he grabbed your hips to still you. "That hurt!"
Another tug. You cried out, trying as you might to snap your thighs shut and push him away, but he wasn't budging.
"You never told me you had an IUD."
"Well, I do, so stop yanking on it! It hurts--"
The next words out of his mouth truly fucking broke you.
"That just won't do. It's no wonder you're not pregnant yet."
You sat up immediately. "Pregnant?"
He ignored you, tugging at it again. You screamed.
"L-Leon, don't! I can get it taken out by a doctor, I swear, I'll get it taken out!"
He shook his head. "And wait even longer to knock you up, pretty girl? Not happening. It's coming out now."
You screamed again, thrashing in his hold. He withdrew from inside you for just a moment, pinning you to the bed by your hip while he reached for your panties on the floor and shoved them into your mouth to silence you.
"There, there, angel. It'll be over before you know it, like ripping off a band-aid," He hummed, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you screeched through the cotton. "I'm gonna give you my babies, I promise. Gonna make you a mommy, and we’ll be so happy."
Before you could properly react he forced his fingers back inside you, yanking at the device until you felt a sickening tear and the unmistakable heat of blood rushing out of you. You curled into yourself, wailing, gasping for breath through the panties in your mouth as he withdrew his blood-soaked fingers, holding up the gory IUD in the light.
"There you are, princess. All better," He smiled contently, discarding the device on the bedside table. "You did so good. You were so brave for me."
You were bawling, shrieking through your gag as your vision blurred into white. Leon kissed up your thighs before standing to unbuckle his belt, and he didn't get much further than that before the panic and agonizing pain got to you and you lost consciousness.
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You woke up the next morning with your thighs sore and sticky with blood. You lifted the comforter to see a deep red pool seeping out from between your legs, and the more you started to wake up, the more aware you became of the pain. You were cramping terribly, sweating buckets, your ears were ringing and you felt weak. Leon had left for work already, so it was up to you to get yourself to the bathroom.
Your entire body was trembling as you stumbled out of the bed, dripping blood in a trail behind you as you dragged yourself to the bathroom and crawled into the bathtub. You peeled off your pajama shorts and panties, watching in horror as a mixture of thick blood and cum spilled out of you and ran slowly toward the drain. Once again, you began to cry. Obviously he'd had his way with you after you passed out, buckets of blood be damned.
Even with your foggy, staticky brain, you couldn't stop thinking. Thinking about the fact that he had no intention of taking you to a hospital, so there was really no telling what might happen with your profusely painful and bleeding sex. Thinking about how fucking screwed you were now without your IUD, your best defense against falling pregnant with your captor's child. Thinking about the fact that if he wouldn't even take you to a doctor for this, he must be expecting a home birth if you were to become pregnant, which you doubted he was qualified to handle and therefore had a very good chance to result in your slow, painful death.
You couldn't stand the shivering anymore, so you filled the bathtub with hot water. It felt nice, though it was rather gross that the water was stained a glassy rose color with your own blood, not that you really had the strength to care in the moment.
In fact, you didn't have much strength at all. It wasn't long before you found yourself losing consciousness once again.
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"Fuck, princess, can you hear me?"
You were trying to open your eyes, to twitch a finger, anything, but it was so hard.
"Shit. Stay right here, babydoll, I'm gonna get you some help, okay? I promise. I never meant to hurt you... shit...”
You heard some shuffling, pacing and possibly Leon talking to himself in the other room. You figured he was trying to decide whether or not to take you to a hospital. Part of you hoped he would and the other part of you hoped he would just let you die there. More than anything, you just wished you would have let him drug you in the first place so maybe you wouldn't be in this level of pain.
After what could have very well been 20 seconds or 20 minutes, Leon kneeled beside the tub and draped a cold washcloth over your forehead, reaching into the bloodied water to pull the drain. With what little control you had over your own movement you managed to crack your eyes open, which seemed to please him.
"Oh thank god... thank god, baby. I almost thought I lost you there," He huffed, voice shaking. "Listen to me closely, princess. Stay with me. I'm going to take you to a doctor but you have to be a good girl, okay? You have to be good for me and go along with what I say, even if it isn't true. I'm just doing what's best for you so you can get all better, okay?"
You nodded weakly. You weren't in any position to put up a fight, and all you really wanted was an end to the pain. Besides, he couldn't supervise you constantly at the hospital. There had to be at least some opportunity to tell someone what he'd done to you.
He somehow managed to dress you in some comfortable clothes of his, a soft black t-shirt that hung halfway down your thighs and a pair of black shorts with some little socks of yours to protect your feet. Then, he carried you princess-style out to the car where he bundled you up in the passenger seat and buckled you in.
As he pulled hurriedly out of the driveway, he made a phone call to someone.
"Hey, it's me... I need the best people we have in the infirmary, stat. I'm on my way now," He spoke sternly into the phone, white knuckling the wheel. "I'm fine, it's not for me, it's my girlfriend. It's a long story that I'll tell you when I get there, but she's bleeding pretty bad. I found her unconscious when I came home... I appreciate it, thanks. See you in 10."
Leon reached over the center console to squeeze your thigh in reassurance.
"You're gonna be just fine, princess. I'm gonna make sure they make you all better, okay?"
Your stomach sank. He obviously wasn't taking you to a hospital. From the sounds of it he was taking you somewhere he had a good amount of leverage, somewhere everyone knew him, held him in high regard and wouldn't dare challenge his word, let alone take yours over his. You slumped to the side, resting your head on the cool window with a quiet bonk. Leon was quick to ask if you were okay but you couldn't muster up a response. Your ears began ringing again and the world around you collapsed into tunnel vision.
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part 2 !!
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loveundrwrld · 1 month
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omg hiiiii i love ur writing smm <33 could i ask for a scenario of tanner x male reader where reader was super shy when he was bullied but years later tanner finds out he's somehow become a badass gang leader who wouldn't hesitate to beat his ex-bully up... i wonder what tanner's reaction would be to that hehe
also can i be 💖 anon? once again thank u <33
how sweet of you to say, thank you!! and to both your questions- yes, you may :) 💖 anon you shall be!
i will say, in his intro, seeing his darling act so reclusive and anxious after high school was what triggered him to rethink his actions- he wouldn't be quite as submissive towards him at first with his darling if he didn't go through that revelation. so tanner is a bit bitchy here since the "why is y/n acting like that"-> "oh no i've hurt him bad haven't i"-> "i'm in LOVE with him" process hasn't happened here.
thus, tanner is still in denial here :p and not as patient with his darling as he typically is
---
yandere ex-bully x gang leader male reader
(cws: violence (not against reader), organized crime, bullying, yandere is victim blaming, stalking)
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tanner thought about you more often than he would ever care to admit. the shy, nervous boy he met in school who would cower from him like a scared puppy. something about you just made his hackles rise- he felt strange every time he'd seen you mumble and blush around him.
the strange feeling was annoyance, surely. you had been asking for attention, looking and acting the way that you did. you were always so shy and deferential around other people, always going along with being the butt of the joke. it was only natural that you were picked on a little.
but he'd matured since high school. he knew that bothering people and playing pranks on them was immature, no matter if you were basically asking for it. and if he'd seen you now he's sure you two would be polite and civil. you'd simply laugh and agree with him that he was a dick, and then you two could be best friends.
... or something. it wasn't like he thought about what meeting you again would be like.
and it was normal for people that went to the same high school to want to be curious about what their fellow past classmates had been up to, so he'd done some simple digging on you out of curiousity. nothing out of the ordinary. but you'd seem to have gone completely off the map, he'd not been able to find anything about you.
he was agitated that he couldn't learn more. he was worried for your safety, was all. i mean, you never posted anything online. for all he knew you could be dying or something. it was natural that he'd feel anxious right now.
but, he simply had to give up. he'd been trying to approach it from different angles, but he'd accepted that he'd reached a dead end.
except... until now. he was idly slouched over on the couch in front of his television, the news on as background noise. then, he perked up when he saw a familiar face come up on the screen.
it was your face that was glaring into the camera with a look of pure hatred, one that you certainly didn't have when he knew you.
good lord, what the hell happened to you?
"suspected gang activity in eastcliff- residents beware," the graphic read at the bottom of the screen.
he rushed to his laptop, wanting to check the arrest records for your shared state. he hadn't even considered this when he was looking up where you had been, it would have never have occurred to him that you would have gotten yourself in that much trouble.
and once the full report had loaded up? yes, it seemed that you actually were a criminal. you were arrested on a few charges but they got mysteriously dropped due to "unforeseen circumstances."
you hadn't been convicted of any felony charges yet, but he could tell that you were indeed involved in organized crime... somehow. and quite awfully high up in it, if you had corrupt police officers helping you escape any justice at all. it would have seemed like a laughable idea to him before, but he couldn't argue with what was right in front of him.
tanner scrunched his face up, his mind feeling blank from shock. how could this have happened? how could someone like you end up with such an... exciting life? how could you have turned out even more dangerous than him? his mouth felt dry, as a sense of bitterness seeped into him.
he didn't even know how to see what you were up to, to see why you turned out the way you did. surely you must have been forced into it. you couldn't have changed so much so fast otherwise. you were just a puppet with a nice face for the real people on top, obviously.
he felt a bit of bitter agitation, and tapped his leg as he thought. he couldn't live his whole life in mystery. he needed to know more about you.
there was one thing he could try...
---
it seems that his gambit to getting information about you had got your attention.
though, nothing could have prepared him from seeing you in front of him. you glared at him fiercely, your face so close to his that he felt your hot breath on his skin.
the eyes that used to be wide and quivering when you were younger were now narrowed and sharp. all he could see was the ice cold rage on your face. it was disorienting, to you someone shift into such a completely different person that you were nearly unrecognizable.
from a little puppy of a boy... to a fearsome wolf.
"of all the things you could do, tanner, you called my mother? don't you dare fuck with her," you growled at him, tugging hard at his shirt.
since when did you get balls? he felt that bubbling uneasy feeling he used to get whenever you were around him... only this time, it was stronger. he didn't like how this new you was effecting him.
you seemed much more dangerous than he was... and he didn't like it. wasn't it him who used to intimidate you? whatever happened to that?
he tried to laugh back at you, trying to stuff away any strange urges his brain was throwing at him.
"oh, come on- y/n, fuck with her? you're acting like i was trying to hurt her or something. i just called her. listen i know i was kind of a dick but really, you're making me out as the bad guy here and-"
you clocked him, hard on his temple. tanner stopped rambling and let out a small groan, the sharp throbbing pain causing him to fall down to one knee.
he opened his mouth to talk, but before he could say anything, you were already leaning down in his face.
"i don't want to hear from you ever again, you piece of shit. don't call or talk to me or my mother if you want all of your limbs intact. you may not know this, but i'm a big deal around here now. do not fuck with me," you say, your voice thick with anger.
for some reason... it felt like sparks and butterflies were running through him. something snapped inside his brain, connecting things. it occurred to him sudden why he had always felt so strange about you, why he was so obsessed with you.
you were hot. and this new you? strangely, he didn't dislike it at all.
"... got it," he said, breathily.
though, he didn't intend on keeping his promise.
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snipersfucker · 10 months
Note
Hcs for mirage and make it spicy too 😈
yall so down bad for that robot dick smh (me too)
its nsfw (mirage x human!reader) stuff here so mdni even though i know yall read that 18+ shit anyway but imma just put it here. also, i am a grown ass woman and was still blushing while writing this so. warning: its hella fucking long
mirage headcanons
let's start with something that just popped up in my head:
when he's the dom, he praises you a lot but also i feel like he's the type to slightly tease/mock you? hear me out. "aw, you're gonna cum? yeah? you wanna be good for me and cum?" while slamming into you and ridding you of any thoughts
and while subbing, he's so whiny... like, whimpering, begging you to let him finish (in general or inside you cause i have a breeding kink) but also, he's being a big fucking brat, literally provoking you so that you'd go harder, be meaner to him
loves edging, loves doing it to you, loves watching you squirm and turn into mush with that cocky smile on his face, only using his hands on you
he definitely likes being edged, too. definitely. imagine him with his wrists tied behind his back, you not letting him touch you/stop you from torturing him, him complying even though he could easily break free..... he's a good boy and lets you do anything you want. (whimpers)
overstimulation as well, he just loves seeing you in that state, begging, crying in pleasure, moaning, whimpering, whatever. really.
he loses it when you overstimulate him though, definitely overheating and not being able to do anything other than beg you to stop, even though he's so fucking into it
12 inches. at least tbh.
i don't even wanna imagine what his cum must taste like, it's either washer fluid, gasoline or fucking rainwater he collects inside him so that you wouldn't have to swallow the first two things idk
back to pleasant things:
he'd definitely take you on rides where he just tells you to touch yourself for him in the driver's seat so that he could watch and hear everything
if you're a bold person (me) and came up with that idea first? like, he's driving around, talking with you through the radio, the mood is already slightly sexual, teasing and all (you know how he is), and then you decide to win the war and begin slowly undressing and touching yourself.... i feel like he'd either go completely silent for a moment or be like "damn... didn't know you had it in you". and expect him to literally ruin your insides when you get back to the garage. the positions he'd put you in.....
speaking of positions. he's big. i really like to believe your human body would be able to take him (i definitely would) but i am not entirely sure. do i care, though? no.
so his fav one is cowgirl. you straddling his lap while he's sitting, his servos on your waist/hips, them not moving you up and down but only staying there, allowing you to do anything you want (he doesn't wanna hurt you as any normal person)
missionary, too. mating press when he feels like ruining you in the sweetest way possible.
he'd try most things you'd ask him to do. he's a whore tbh. but. choking is a no, slapping and any other thing that could potentially cause you unwanted pain due to his strength and size is a no for him. wrapping his fingers around your throat just so that you'd feel them there? hell yeah. actually applying pressure? you might die
doesn't mind your hands on his neck, though. he knows you can't do shit to him, he'd let you hold a knife to his throat if you wanted to tbh, he couldn't care less (turns him on)
he looks like he fucking enjoys roleplays and the cringe ones, too. like, police officer stopping him for speeding, him acting all innocent and then he has to get punished for breaking the law or some shit. he just has that face that looks like he likes these things
he'd be so bratty as well. "no, ma'am, i am sure i wasn't speeding. well, you could always handcuff me if you think otherwise....." in that fake innocent tone....
size kink, breeding kink (just pretend his cum is normal like, potential gasoline inside me is a turn off for me personally tbh), bondage... he'd tie you up but again, he doesn't wanna hurt you, he'd prefer if you had complete control over your limbs and all. but loves it when you do it to him as i mentioned earlier
he's gotta prep you real good before putting it in, again because of his size. fingers, lube, your spit, anything. he needs to make sure you're stretched out enough to take him
he'd definitely steal your panties to jerk himself off with them (will be writing a whole fic about it someday)
speaking of masturbation, he's a horny fuck, everything about you gets him going and there aren't enough occasions for you to actually have sex, so he just uses his own hand, imagining you in various positions, even the impossible ones just because.
i don't think they have involuntary boners that show and they have to transform a bit to get their dicks out so he just does it to get rid of the unbearable tension inside him, not because anybody would see him with a hard-on
he cums a lot. the fluid literally never stops coming out of his dick when he finishes. breeding kink goes brrrr once again.
once came up with a funny safe word and told you to use it every single time you feel anything else other than pleasure
his digits are so big, he could easily use just one and make you crumble for him with just pushing it in and out of you
his aftercare probably consists of him holding you after sex, although he's aware that the metal body might not be the most comfortable thing ever. he'd definitely offer to take you on a joy ride afterwards. oh, and praise, too. but would also probably playfully make fun of you for saying horny stuff you'd normally never say to him if your mind wasn't clouded with lust
he's so confident in his bedroom abilities, too, as he should tbh.
i want him to manhandle me but also make him my pet.
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theehoneeybee · 3 months
Text
An Evening Coffee
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pairing: Edward Nashton/gn!reader warnings: stalking, obsession, swearing, implied kidnapping? the riddler is just a silly goose word count: 1.0k
part one
synopsis: Edward's obsession only grows stronger the more you pull away from him. ���﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏ a/n: thank you for the love on the previous fic <;3 also don't forget my requests are open teehee ✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏
After Edward had left your apartment you were quick to draw all the curtains, triple checking that the front door was locked. To be extra safe, you heaved the coffee table in front of the door to barricade yourself in.
He knew where you lived.
The hairs on your arm stood up straight, alert. The air in your apartment weighed on your shoulders, unable to escape the feeling of dread that surrounded you. You drowned in fear. How did he know where you lived? Had he been here before? Was he still here now?
You didn't have a second of peace, your brain swarming with questions. Everything began to make sense. The feeling of being watched and followed, and of course, the card.
You wanted to move apartment, to run away and hide where he could never find you, but there was one small problem. Edward still had your laptop.
You stayed awake all night, forcing yourself to keep your eyes open. Caffeine and anxiety fuelled you as you stalked from room to room, unable to sit still, frantically checking that you were alone in the apartment. Was it even worth informing the police? You had no physical proof that Edward had done anything and the Gotham police were useless. They would just tell you, "we'll look into it," then you would never hear from them again.
The alarm from your phone blared in your ear. You don't remember falling asleep. You shot straight up, eyes snapping open as you scanned around your room. It was time for you to go to work.
Each time a customer came through the door a shiver ran down your spine, anticipating Edward's arrival. The night dragged. You anxiously stared at the clock, watching as the seconds ticked by all too slowly.
"Evening," Edward greeted you as he came through the door, the bell chiming behind him. You tried your best to keep a straight face, to keep the fear at bay.
"Evening."
He gently sets your laptop down on the counter. "I'll just have a coffee tonight," a kind smile adorned his lips as he spoke to you. How could he look you in the eyes and act like nothing was wrong? You couldn't help the shaking in your hands as your poured his coffee. "Well, I was able to get the virus off your laptop. Like you said, it was just something you got from a dodgy site."
You nodded, mumbling a thank you as your grabbed your laptop to put it away. Had Edward been the one to mess with your laptop? Part of you knew that would make sense, that is was the logical thing to think, but the way he looked at you almost had you convinced otherwise. Almost.
"You should be more careful, you know," Edward advised. "Try not to use those sites in the future. You never know what could happen. There's some dangerous people out there." His clear glasses gleamed in the light.
He wouldn't leave fast enough. Edward took his sweet time, sipping his coffee and scribbling his answers in a crossword puzzle. You watched him cautiously from across the diner, avoiding eye contact whenever he would glance your way. When Edward finally left, you let out a sigh of relief. A weight was lifted from your shoulders, not having to worry about him for the rest of your shift.
You scurried home, eager to get out of the dark and into the safety of your apartment. The illusion of safety, at least. Before you went to bed that night you messaged your manager, begging to be switched to the day shift. It would be too hard to find a new job on such short notice, so changing your shifts would be the quickest way to deter Edward. It was hard to fall asleep. No position seemed comfortable or safe. On your side, it left your back exposed, vulnerable to the world. You tossed and turned for the rest of the night, every little noise of the city waking you from your sleep.
You thought the switch to day shift kept Edward at bay. Aside from the feeling of being watched, you had not seen or heard from him. You asked your co-worker who took over the night shift if she had seen him, brown hair and clear frames, you described. Nothing.
Even your laptop was completely fine. The black screen and flashing question mark never appeared again but you still felt a level of unease using it, covering up your webcam with tape, just in case.
After a long day, all you wanted to do was rot in bed. One of your co-workers called out last minute, leaving you to cover them until someone else could come in. The rest of the evening you had spent running errands. Hauling all of your groceries onto the subway was no easy task.
You shuffled into your dark apartment, unable to flick on the light just yet as you carried your bags into the kitchen. They smacked onto the countertop with a loud thud. Your bedroom light was still on. Odd, you thought. You could've sworn you had turned it off. Electricity isn't cheap after all.
As you entered your bedroom, someone sprung out from the darkness, making you jump with fright. You hadn't spotted Edward in the corner, shrouded in the shadows. He towered over you, his eyes obscured by his glasses. You slowly backed away from him, until you were pressed up against the wall. He stood inches away from you.
"I missed you," Edward cooed. "You stopped working the night shift."
Your bottom lip trembled, fists balled against your sides as you stared up into his green eyes. Before you could utter a word, he spoke again.
"I just wanted to see you. You caught onto me hacking your laptop pretty quickly. You're a smart one." So he was the one who tampered with your computer.
"Please just leave me alone," your voice trembled as you spoke. For someone who used to seem so meek, Edward was making you shake with fear. His hand came up to cup your face, his thumb running across your bottom lip. You swallowed. He leaned down, his face centimetres yours.
"Don't think you can get away from me that easily."
You were his.
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pinguwrites · 7 months
Text
Kinktober 2023 | Day Three — Raymond Leon + car sex
Pairing -> sub!raymond leon x reader
Warnings -> smut (minors dni), maybe kinda sorta dub-con just to be careful (but not anything big, it can be looked over), road head (don't do this irl be smart),
KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST
Disclaimer: In Time characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.
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Sometimes Raymond was a little boring. Not in any insulting way, only that he tended to be more stern and strict, and he always had to have things in control. It was probably something about being a timekeeper. That’s how they all were, at least the one’s you’ve met. But with Ray it was a little different, more . . . old. You didn’t know how to describe it. He wasn’t out of touch with anything, but he just had that sense of dullness in his personality that he carried around with him like a raincloud.
It wasn’t physical or anything — sex was great, and the stunts he did when he was out policing the timezones proved he was in great shape. He was twenty-five, after all, everyone nowadays was. But he was fifty or something mentally (what age exactly, you didn’t know, and didn’t dare ask). 
You loved him, so it wasn’t a major problem, but you did have to admit, sometimes you wished he would so something unprovoked, unpredictable, hot.
Deciding to take matters into your own hands (literally), your reached over and placed your hand on his thigh. Raymond noticed, but focused his attention on driving, not making any move to push you away. It wasn’t until you crept closer to his crotch did he say something about your behavior. 
“What are you doing?” he asked sternly. He glared at you, something you learned not to take personally. 
“Nothing.” You shrugged innocently. “Just tryna have some fun.”
Your fingers brushed over his crotch.
Keeping one hand on the steering wheel he took off the other and grabbed your wrist.
“Stop that,” he growled. “Can’t you see I’m driving?”
“Yeah. That’s why it’s fun.”
You gave Ray’s cock a little squeeze through the fabric and he let out a little gasp, one you wouldn't be able to hear unless you were listening for it.
To your surprise, he didn’t say anything after that. He just stared dead ahead at the road, not giving you any indication he wanted you to stop.
So you didn’t. You continued to tease him thrugh the fabric, waiting for him to get hard, and when he finally did, you unzipped the zipper and pulled his hard length out.
You caught your boyfriend glancing at the side of the roads, looking out for other cars. But it was night and no one was there, like they could see anything in the darkness even if they were. 
“Relax. No one’s gonna see us,” you reassured him.
“I know that,” Ray breathed out as you rubbed his precum all over the tip of his cock. He shuffled a little in his seat. “Are you really going to do this? Now?”
“Do you want me to stop?” you asked, halting your hand movements.
“. . . No.”
“Say the magic word,” you teased with a grin.
He sighed, not wanting to prolonge the foreplay. “Please?”
“Please what?”
“Touch me,” he said, exasperated. 
“Good boy,” you said, giving him a long stroke.
He threw his head back, in annoyance or pleasure, you could not tell. He always denied it, but you knew he liked it when you called him your ‘good boy’.
“Go slow,” he pleaded, when you picked up the pace.
You chuckled. “Loosen up, Ray.”
You and Ray tightened your grips, yours on his cock, pumping with precision, and his on the steering wheel, desperately tyring to stay in control. 
You took your hand off for a brief moment, prompting Ray to glance over at you, only for his breathing to hitch in his throat when he saw you lean over spit on his cock, resuming your pumping.
“Fuck,” he moaned. “Yeah, that’s good.”
You fondled his balls, giving them a little pinch. He squirmed in his seat.
“Don’t move,” you demanded, taking off your seatbelt to fit his entire length in your mouth. 
The car swerved a little, but it immediately got back on track.
You gagged, but kept yourself down for a bit, before getting up for some air.
Ray groaned loudly. “Oh, don’t do that, I can’t focus.”
You both knew that he could easily push you away. He was stronger than you, but his desire was getting in the way of reason, and all he wanted to do was relax in the car seat, you here to give him a blow job like there wasn’t anything else the mattered.
You ignored his words, continuing to suck of his cock, hollowing your cheeks out and timing your breaths so you didn’t choke as much. You bobbed your head up and down, revelling in the way he wriggled away from you. 
Ray had enough, and pulled the car over to the side of the road, parking it on some grass. He stopped the engine and spread his legs, relaxing his arm on your back.
He came soon after with a whine. You swallowed his seed, making a disgusting gulping sound. 
You took the paper wipes from the backseat and wiped his cum off your face, leaving his now soft cock out of his pants. He tried to put it back in but you stopped him, wanting a nice view of his length. You put on your seatbelt and playfully slapped his thigh.
“Well? I wanna get home. Start driving.”
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Taglist:
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@madeinuk
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cowboy-lover69 · 11 months
Note
could you please write a reaction for the ghostfaces where they realize their partner is afraid of them?
Ghostface's finding out you fear them.
(965 words)
(notes)
HEYYYY, sorry I haven't posted in ages am not super into scream anymore as you can tell by my rebrand BUT I still will be posting scream fic every once in a while if I feel like writing them
Requests are still open but I will be doing them less often
sorry for the 2 missing Ghostfaces in this one I was drained.
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Billy Loomis
---  After you found out Billy was Ghostface Billy was very `paranoid that you were afraid of him, we would constantly ask for your reassurance that you weren’t  
---  I feel he would overcompensate out of fear that you would either fall out of love with him and report him to the police or that you would straight up fear him which is not what he wanted.  
--- Once we realized you did fear him even though you would reassure him that you didn’t he would be angry, which didn’t help. He would reason that you knew him and you know he never does anything like that to use whether you were convinced or not is up to you.     
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Stu Matcher
---  Stu was very oblivious to the fact that you weren’t comfortable around him after finding out he was Ghostface, He just couldn't connect the dots.   
--- he could tell you were uncomfortable since you were pretty visually upset but he didn’t know what to do. Most likely after you found out he was Ghostface everything went back to “normal” at least for a little bit.  
--- After he found out you feared him he was very upset you didn’t tell him. He wasn’t angry at you, he was just upset you didn’t trust him enough to say to him. He would probably try to talk to you about it and make sure you feel comfortable again.
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Mickey Altieri
--- When you found out he was Ghostface Mickey just assumed that you would fear him, he was very surprised when you “didn’t”. 
---  I feel like Mickey would be pretty insensitive about the whole thing. He would joke around about being Ghostface and couldn't tell it made you very uncomfortable.
--- Once he found out you were scared of him he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the whole ordeal. He really did care about you but he wasn't going to stop being Ghostface for you because he thought you were being a tad dramatic.
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Roman Bridger
---  Roman was not sure when you found out he was Ghostface. Mostly out of the fact he didn’t think you were the type to care all too much but his judgment was wrong
--- For the most part, everything went on as normal; it never really came up in conversations because you would try to avoid the topic. 
--- After Roman found out how you really felt he was a little surprised but too careful in trying to make you feel better about the whole thing explaining why he's doing it so you understand better.
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Jill Roberts
--- Jill was a little concerned when you found out she was Ghostface but she quickly realized if you valued your own life you wouldn't tell.
---  so she used that to her advantage trying to have you cover for her and Charlie during the murders sometimes. She enjoyed being able to have you help but didn't realize how scared of her you really were.
--- Once she found out she reassured you of how much power and fame you guys would have after the killings if she kept you around for that long. She did care about you but if you became an issue she would not have a problem dealing with you.
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Charlie Walker
--- Charlie valued you quite a bit both emotionally and physically, the first thing he was worried about when you found out he was Ghostface was how you felt. You acted like you were fine with it so he assumed you were cool with it without looking too much into the outside of the 
--- he enjoyed the idea of Bonnie and Clyde partners in crime etc it was a fantasy of his. He would make you help him and Jill which you were not comfy with but you would never say anything even when he got a little carried away.
--- Once it slipped out that you were uncomfortable with him being Ghostface and with all the things you had seen him do you feared him a little, he was not quite sure how to handle it. He carried for you a lot but he was curious if he would choose you over being Ghostface.
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Amber Freeman
--- Amber enjoyed being Ghostface. Somewhere in her diluted mind, she thought you would join her and be happy for her, and out of fear you told her that you did. She was thrilled she had someone to share this with besides Richie.
--- she wouldn’t make you do anything but she loved to be able to be confined to you when she needed someone to talk to about her murders. She liked Richie and he was there but she loved you. 
--- Once she found out you feared her, she felt a surge of remorse that she had been pushing this on you before trying to justify it. She would say “Come on sweetheart you know I would never do you.” whether you believe her or not is up to you.  
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Ethan Landry
--- Ethan was very apologetic once you found out he was Ghostface he didn’t want to lose you because he loved you. Out of fear, you lied that you were ok and didn’t fear for your life at that moment. 
--- he did his best not to talk about it with you or get you involved at all. He didn't want you wrapped up in his shit since he didn’t want you to be in a position where you were in his way and he would have to hurt you.
--- it ended up coming out that you were afraid of him, Ethan felt very bad. He tried his best to comfort you and make sure you understood he would never hurt you intentionally. He made it clear that if you did fear him, he would break up with you for your sake.
(request semi open not 100% I will do them)
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