#cops AU

[ytsunodabrainrotbaybee]

Find a place where we belong

->Listen to I Think We’re Alone Now by Tiffany

Guanyu X Reader in a 1980s/21 Jump Street AU.

While investigating and hoping to bust a group of street racing gamblers, Y/N has to pose as Guanyu’s girlfriend in her first undercover assignment with the Jump Street Program.

Part one: Pilot

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Toto’s coffee sat forgotten as he poured over your work history. You sat, watching on as he all but ignored you.

“Well?”

“Unremarkable” he said, thumbing through pages and pages detailing your short career on the force. “Barely met quotas on parking tickets, partners say you’re untrainable, and past supervisors have called you noncommittal at best.”

In saying that, the police chief never looked up at you. He pushed your files to the side before taking off his glasses and taking the first real look at you.

“I’d like to recommend you to Captain Hamilton’s Jump Street Program.”

He kept talking. He explained the story behind Lewis Hamilton’s ragtag team of baby faced cops who couldn’t hack it anywhere else. Truly the team of misfit toys. Getting on the inside where any middle aged patrolman couldn’t reach without scaring everyone away.

Less of a shark among dolphins.

“So a narc?”

You interrupted Toto’s monologue.

“Essentially,” a new voice filtered in from behind you.

Leaned up against the doorframe, donned a pair of aviators and an aged leather jacket, captain Lewis Hamilton. The detective looking type. He pushed himself away from the frame and crossed the room to you, hand out for a firm handshake.

“We’re starting assignments now,” He said as he made a gesture for you to join the small group in another room.

Four sets of eyes tracked you to your seat, one unclaimed in the front. Your field of vision was taken up by a whiteboard with names and more names written on it.

The sets of eyes surrounding you belonged to a group easily mistaken for the teenagers you’d see riding their bikes in a cul de sac. Working their summer jobs at some amusement park.

The youngest looking of them, a shorter guy leaned over the table in front of him to better reach the conversation around him, wore shoulder holsters that held a pair of guns level with his chest.

The group settled down after Hamilton tapped the board a couple of times. Before tossing a marker’s cap at the shorter one leaned over the table. “I will put you outside, Tsunoda”

Pouting and making a heart shape with his hands, Tsunoda sunk into his chair. He, along with the others, settled into listening to Hamilton explaining their newest assignment.

“For the past six months a small group has been gambling on illegal street races throughout Miami,” Hamilton passed folders to each of the group members, “our main suspects are from two groups: West Seminole High School and Miami East Autobody. Guanyu, Y/N, Yuki, We’re sending the three of you to the school. Oscar and Logan get the autobody shop.”

“Oscar and Yuki will be our drivers,” Hamilton read over his folder, “Logan, Guanyu, focus on getting information from your targets” His eyes drifted to you, “Y/N, I want you at Guanyu’s hip.”

There was a simultaneous groan from the other boys, one speaking up, Yuki. “I’ve been here longer”

“You’re also scared of girls.”

Yuki threw that marker cap at Guanyu in response.

Hamilton raised his voice over the commotion, “the four I want you to focus on are Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo, Lando Norris, and the man over the whole operation: Fernando Alonso”

“Max and Daniel co-own that autobody shop, Max is the best of the best, he has outrun every unit in the city. He drives a 1980 Toyota Celica Supra. It looks stock, it’s not.” Lewis articulated his explanation with his slapping pictures onto the whiteboard beside him, pulled from a file in his hands.

You stared at the picture of what truly was an unassuming looking navy blue Toyota. Max stood next to it speaking to a taller man. Accompanying that was another picture, dark, blurry, two cars next to each other in the middle of a burnout.

“Daniel has a 67 Dodge Challenger, loud and obnoxious. Just like him”

The man from that first picture of Max reappeared. Only a printout from CCTV footage. Daniel outside of that gas station, chatting up a tall blonde while leaning against the aforementioned Dodge Challenger.

“Lando is a student at West Seminole. He has a prior history with reckless driving, driving under the influence, and was detained at fourteen for trying to get into a casino in Las Vegas,” Hamilton continued flipping through his file folders, “He drives a 1979 Porsche 911.”

Lando’s pictures were a collection of school photos. Aside from one taken outside of another gas station. That one wasn’t a CCTV shot, more likely some PI that followed him around.

“Fernando is an English Literature teacher at West Seminole. He drives a 1960 Fastback Mustang,” Hamilton put up a glossy picture of Fernando with his cherry red mustang, taken in the high school parking lot, “We believe he recruits drivers from his classes. Over half of our suspects have gone through him in West Seminole. The other half come from Miami East.”

The meeting continued on without anything else too interesting. More backstory on the group you would be watching. Some honorable mentions without much pull, but still suspects nonetheless. The guys asking questions. Yuki antagonizing Lewis when he can. Logan antagonizing Yuki.

Lewis moved on to explain everyone’s cover. Names, backstory, down to the car you drive. You, Audrey Kellen would be riding around with Guanyu, or David Choi in his 1980 Alfa Romeo Giulia. Yuki, Jude Ioki already had his 1987 Nissan Z. Oscar’s Aaron Meyers’ 1981 Camaro was modified enough to make the ground shake as it drove by, Lewis explained. He would go on to be the main driver. Against Yuki’s protests. Logan, Alex Reeves had his father’s 79 Chevy S10.

The meeting adjourned. Guanyu hung back to walk with you out of the briefing room. He fell in step with you as you passed him.

“Ready to go back to school?” He asked, nudging you in the side.

“Can I be honest?” You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets. He leaned towards you as if you were gearing up to let him in on some sort of secret. “Teenagers terrify me, so not really.”

He laughed. Maybe a bit of a generous laugh. You couldn’t help laughing along.

The two of you fought up to the rest of the guys. They chattered on together, barely registering that y’all had joined them. Even when you added to the conversation, they talked along with you as if you’d been there the entire time.

That night you’d go home and pack your school bag. It stayed in the back of your closet. You’d graduated high school in 82, your backpack was even older. One you’d used since the 70s.

Your younger sister had a less vintage Trapper Keeper you planned on stealing from her. Probably with a promise of a months worth of video and radio store allowance, extra time at the arcade, and some of Kate Bush’s latest on a new Walkman to keep her from asking questions.

On your way home you hit a radio store to pick up said Walkman and Kate Bush tracks.

#f1 x reader #21 Jump Street AU #80s AU #zhou guanyu x reader #yuki tsunoda #logan sargeant #oscar piastri #lewis hamilton #Zhou guanyu #race cars #cops AU #Undercover #fake relationship #find a place where we belong

[lotus-seed-love]

Rebel Rebel - Chpt Two

Story summary: When a "slightly tipsy" Wei Wuxian meets a stern and very pretty stranger one night, he decides he wants to get to know this man better… whether he likes it or not. Obviously not for sexual reasons. Wei Wuxian isn’t into men. Somehow, this turns into a whirling storm of murder, vigilante justice and sexual self-discovery.  

Tags: Cops AU, urban fantasy au, Drama, Humour, Smut, Minor Angst, TW: Blood, TW: Homophobia, TW: Xue Yang still loves corpses, LWJ has a motorbike, and that undercut, look I have needs like anyone, Social Justice Warriors, on the hunt for a serial killer, wangxian switch, head jobs, Rimming, Handcuffs, Porn With Plot, Sex in later chapters, playing with canon plot beats is fun, for WWX anyway X'D

Chapter summary: Lan Wangji walks the tightrope between being a police officer and being a vigilante. Wei Wuxian chases him through the street demanding a spanking. They do say opposites attract.

Rating: E

Rebel Rebel 2 (AO3 link)

#wangxian #smut #urban fantasy #cops au #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #CQL #wei wuxian #lan wangji #fanfiction

[ikiprian]

Ghost Kitchen (brought to you by criminal entrepreneur, Red Hood)

Danny’s got the easiest job in Gotham.

He works as a fry cook at a shoddily-run, independent burger joint. Hardly anyone comes in, despite prices being criminally low, and portions insanely large, and while the manager looks like the average tough-as-nails ex-con, he lets Danny mess around in the kitchen whenever the place is empty. (Which is often. This place has to be the city’s hidden gem or something!)

Mr. Manager’s the only one ever there with Danny, except for sometimes when his buddies come over to smoke and play cards. Danny would find it shady, except part of his job is not to ask questions. Literally, he was told during the interview.

(It was a weird interview. Why would they need to hire someone who’s been in a gunfight before? Like, he has, but Gotham’s idea of “hirable qualities” is so bizarre.)

So instead he whips up some killer burgers with the frozen ingredients, and basks in the praise as the guys tell him he shouldn’t have, he does too much for this joint, ain’t that friendly!

Now, Danny’s a chef on the newer side. As a teen he’d preferred the look of Nasty Burger over anything with Michelin stars, and he only really took up cooking after Jazz moved out for college. But just like ecto-exposure used to turn the groceries sentient, Danny’s low-level ecto signature imbues all his food with something historically haunted Gothamites just love! And Danny’s never been one to half-ass a job when it makes people happy.

With fresher produce, real meat, Danny’s sure he can take his dishes to the next level. It takes a couple months of badgering, but his manager finally agrees to contact the mysterious store owner, who keeps the place going, despite profits Danny knows have to be in the red.

Danny spends the morning prepping. He pours his heart into his food, eager to impress. The big boss will be here soon, and he wants to prove that despite the dangerous location, this place has real potential!

It isn’t until the Red Hood shows up that Danny realizes he’s been working for a money laundering scheme.

#ecto has a weird effect on them actually. a lot like how danielle drinks ecto to keep her stable #ecto has positive health benefits for gothamites! it boosts their immune system gives them a little more energy makes them less irritable #silly hc but i think its fun #also danny just. thought it was a normal ass interview. the person who hired him was heavily hinting at the criminal element of his job the #whole time. danny just kept thinking man i cant believe all interviews are like this in gotham. every one of the #m asks if im okay lying to cops. i am but its weird i never got asked this in amity #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dead on main #ghost kitchen au #danny fenton #jason todd #kipwrite

[bestdressedchuuya]

#one piece #luffy #I loved the edo period filler episodes cuz they were really fun and the designs were great #but luffy being a policeman was just so.... ????? #there could be a million different AUs and I would never imagine him being a cop in any of them

[crabs-brencil]

honestly we were so deprived of a car chase

also 80s cop au or whatever just any excuse to not draw connor in his cyberlife clothes lmao

#dbh #detroit become human #connor rk800 #dbh connor #dbh fanart #dbh rk800 #rk800 #dbh human au #dbh hank #hank anderson #dbh 80s cop au #car chase #krita #hank totally has fast and furious skills

[zzoupz]

hello faith roleswap au community

#lyrics in first pic is from tiny gods by shayfer james 👍👍👍 yes that was a rec 👍👍👍 #john loves you au #faith game #faith the unholy trinity #faith airdorf #john ward #father allred #gary miller #I still have no idea how to tag the cop #father garcia #zoup art

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training XVII (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

You stared into the darkness of the basement for what felt like too long.

It was quiet down there, but not the kind of quiet that felt comforting. It was the kind of silence that felt suffocating—taunting. It was so loud in its taunting, snickering at you and your idiocy and naivety. Even as you laid on the floor, feeling like the lowest of jokes, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret the decisions that brought you here.

Nat was your friend. Or at least, you liked to consider her one, and even faced with the threat of the worst punishment Steve could muster, you just couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything differently. You couldn’t imagine yourself waking Peter up that night and telling him you saw the redhead escaping, effectively alerting the other husbands to her presence, leading to her subsequent capture. It just wasn’t in you, and clearly none of these men—not even Peter—knew you at all if they thought it was.

The first time you tried to move, you couldn’t, and for a brief moment, you thought that Steve had injured you in his delight to toss you down the stairs like a sack of flour instead of a person. However, you quickly came to realize that wasn’t the case. You could move your fingers and toes fine, even twitch your leg, but you just couldn’t find the strength to move. You felt beyond defeated, and when you blinked, you weren’t shocked to feel a sting behind your eyes.

There was the most awful aching feeling in your chest, both heavy and hollow even though you didn’t know how that was possible. You wanted to cry and scream, but you also never wanted to utter another word ever again. You wanted to let out everything you felt since the moment you came here, but in the same breath, you desperately wanted to feel numb. If you didn’t feel a thing, then you couldn’t get hurt, and you hurt so much, right now.

Peter killed Michelle.

He didn’t help kill her, but he did kill her, and in the grand scheme of things, maybe that shouldn’t make a difference. After all, you’d still been under the impression that he did nothing while his brothers did. You’d still been under the belief that he allowed it to happen at best and helped it happen and cover it up at worst. So, why did Peter pulling the trigger make all the difference in the world to you?

Was it because you thought you were falling in love with him?

That thought had you squeezing your eyes shut, so tight that it hurt, and it was hard to hold back your sob. Your nails scraped against the hard floor as you shook, struggling to breathe as your stomach turned. Once you started it was so hard to stop, and it wasn’t long before the sound of your choked cries were filling the basement. It was a thought you’d considered before, but that was when he wasn’t a murderer.

That was when he hadn’t murdered your best friend.

How could you possibly rationalize it now? Deep down, you knew that this wasn’t your fault. Deep down you knew that there were names and studies dedicated to people in your position and the psychology behind it, but that didn’t make you feel any better. Peter had murdered your friend in cold blood…

…and you thought you loved him.

The thought made you want to be sick, and with horror, you could actually feel your stomach turning. You hurried to sit up, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as you struggled to keep it down. The bathroom only some feet away was locked—wouldn’t be unlocked until someone came down to open it and let you in—and you didn’t think you could handle sitting in a room with your vomit just stewing in the corner.

Struggling to get to your feet, you pressed your other hand to your stomach, trying to settle it. Keeping your mouth closed, you breathed through your nose, lashes fluttering, and after some time, you slowly stumbled towards where you knew the bed to be. You didn’t care about turning on the light, finding no need, and when you sat down, your head drooped in defeat.

There was really no telling how long they’d keep you in here until they figured out what to do with you, and while you knew that Peter would try his damndest to get them to go easy on you, you also knew that they wouldn’t consider a word that left his mouth. You—and also Peter by extension—had proven Steve and the others right, and you found it unlikely they’d ever listen to another suggestion from Peter about you ever again. Or at the very least, not for a long time.

Besides, Peter wasn’t the aggrieved party.

Bucky was, and such a thought made you shudder. You’d done well to avoid attracting Bucky’s ire even though he reminded you of Steve in some ways. Although, unlike Steve, Bucky didn’t seem the type to look for any and every excuse to punish you as he’d prefer in a contrast to Peter’s methods. Bucky seemed—if nothing else—fair to you, and that’s what scared you the most.

Bucky now felt wronged by you.

So, there was really no telling what was in store for you.

You recalled the way he’d reached for you, desperately trying to get past Peter in his efforts to get his hands on you. You didn’t want to imagine what he would’ve done had he succeeded, and you swallowed as your mind went rampant with the possibilities. Your hand came up to graze the tear in your sleeve, wincing at the slight sting you felt when your finger came in contact with the skin. Some part of you knew that had Bucky succeeded, he just might have killed you in his rage, and where you once would’ve welcomed such a thought…

It only made your heart ache, now.

You didn’t want to die, and when you thought about why, your stomach only twisted into knots once again. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you keeled over, throat tight as you tried to swallow down another sob. Your chest hurt so much, feeling like someone had an iron grip on your heart and was just squeezing and twisting it to their content. When you gasped, a cry escaped with it, and the only other time you could recall feeling like this was the day you realized your friends were dead and you were all alone.

You cried until your throat felt raw, and you didn’t fight your body as it started to collapse to the floor, sliding off of the bed in a heap. Covering your face with your hands, your lightly dragged your nails down your skin, frame shaking as you rocked back and forth. Your stomach wouldn’t stop hurting, and you couldn’t stop shaking. In fear or anger or despair—you didn’t know.

You did know that this was all Peter’s fault. He was the one who decided he had to have you, as if you were some thing to be acquired instead of a human being with a life and feelings and autonomy. If it weren’t for him, your friends would still be alive, and you wouldn’t even be here. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be feeling ripped apart by how you felt about the man who kidnapped and raped you. All of this was Peter’s fault…and even still…more than anything…

All you wanted was for him to hold you.

It was hard to say how long you stayed in the basement. The darkness and silence was endless, and it felt like months, but in reality, it was probably mere days. You did know that it was long enough for your stomach to ache from more than just fear and for your nightgown to stink from more than just sweat. You didn’t think you were capable of feeling embarrassed about that anymore. After all, Peter never made you feel like it was something to be embarrassed about, but that was before you heard the sound of the locks on the basement door.

Despite your shame, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Until the light from the top of the stairs outlined a familiar silhouette.

You merely stared at him as he stood on the first step, yours on him and his eyes on you. You couldn’t hear any noise coming from the main part of the house, and you said nothing when he closed the door behind him. Peter wasn’t good. You knew that since the beginning when he told you that everything he did was so that he could have you, making it all okay. Peter had never been good.

So, why did looking at him now hurt so much more than it ever had?

As soon as Peter was close enough, the first thing he did was take your face into his hands. You couldn’t really feel them, realizing that you got your wish to feel numb, and that just made your chest ache more. Just days ago you were desperate to feel the comfort of Peter’s touch, and now you couldn’t feel it, at all.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured, face a mere inch away from yours.

When you didn’t say anything back, you noticed the way his face fell, lips pressed together as he eyed you. His gaze lingered on yours for the longest, thumbs just grazing your skin, and you watched the way his tongue darted out to swipe between his lips.

“We need to get you cleaned up.”

His words had you blinking, and it was only then did you notice the fresh dress resting on the crook of his arm. You didn’t ask him what day it was because it didn’t matter. You only knew what would be happening today, and it’s why the dress on Peter’s arm was so pretty. It was why you’d been locked in the basement for days. It was why Peter looked at you the way he did as he helped you stand.

“I’m so sorry,” were the words he murmured into your hair as soon as he leaned you against him.

What was he apologizing for exactly? For killing Michelle or lying to you about it? For taking you and ruining your life in the first place? Or for failing to protect you from the wrath of the other husbands? Maybe he was apologizing for what was to come, and that made you shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again as he brought your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

You didn’t respond—didn’t know how to—only allowing him to guide you into the bathroom after unlocking it. You couldn’t really say how you got naked, only feeling as if you blinked before finding yourself sitting in a tub of hot water with Peter raining water down over your head. He was talking to you, saying something that went in one ear and out of the other. All you could focus on was that dress on the toilet, wondering what they planned to make you do while wearing it.

When you felt the weight of Peter’s gaze, it was only then did you take note of the silence. You didn’t know if he’d asked you a question or if he simply opted to stare at you, but when his hand came up to graze the side of your face, you assumed it was the latter. Perusing you, you watched as his gaze became distracted by the shallow scrape on your arm from Bucky’s nails, and when Peter’s jaw tightened, you knew that he realized where it came from too.

“Peter,” you softly forced out, throat tight.

He gave you his undivided attention, and you licked your lips.

“What are they going to do to me?”

Your question came out almost inaudible, just barely above a whisper as you found yourself almost too afraid to ask—too fearful to want to know. When Peter’s face fell some, your own frown deepened, and when he sighed, your heart sank.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” he slowly told you, and you could see that he was telling the truth.

You knew that Peter would have no say in this, you’d known that, but faced with the knowledge that was completely in the dark only served to make your stomach twist more. Only this time, you weren’t able to stop it, and it was Peter who kept you from falling as you hurried to get out of the tub. You only just made it to the toilet in time, and with nothing in your stomach to throw up, all you expelled was bile.

One of Peter’s hands were on your waist, the other soothingly rubbing your back as you vomited again. With every heave of your stomach, you shook more and more, and when you were done, you could only stare at the wall behind the toilet.

“You’re sick,” he said, tone strained with worry.

You shook your head.

“No, I’m just… I’m scared,” you honestly told him, lifting your gaze to meet his. “…and heartbroken.”

Peter sadly tilted his head, and your lips quivered.

“Why did you lie to me?” you breathed. “Why did you…? Why did you minimize your part in it?”

You continued before Peter could lie some more.

“Why did you hold me and comfort me and tell me you weren’t as bad as them when you’re much worse?”

“I’m not,” he argued, grabbing your shoulder.

“…but you are,” you said with a frown. “At least with Steve and Tony and Bucky I know who they are. I fear them because they’ve shown me why I should.”

Peter pulled you closer, resting your head on his chest as he rocked you.

“You made me love you.”

The words came out small and choked, your face crumbling as Peter stilled, and you’d stupidly thought you had no more tears left. Your body proved you wrong, frame shaking as your chest tightened, a cry escaping you in the otherwise quiet bathroom. Peter didn’t respond right away, just holding you as you cried.

“I’m still the same person I was before you found out,” he whispered, rocking you. “…the same person you begged to run away with.”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’m not proud of what I did,” he confessed. “…but it’s why I can hold you every night for as long as I want.”

He leaned down to gently kiss your forehead, and your vacant and tearful gaze was on the bathtub, now.

“You don’t have to agree with it, even I don’t agree with it, but it had to be done if I wanted you all to myself.”

You knew that justified it all in Peter’s mind, and the part of your brain that was conditioned to normalize your new reality wanted to pull him closer, but the part that desperately missed your friends and family and old life only wanted to be sick.

When Peter rinsed you off and dried you, his fingers grazed your skin as he helped you get dressed. Soothing words left his lips that didn’t really mean much because how could he calm you against something that was unknown to him too? He didn’t even know what he was comforting you from. Once dressed, he stood before you, looking you over with his fingers grazing over yours.

When your eyes met his, his gaze softened, and you didn’t stop him when he leaned in to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. Like every touch and kiss of his, now, you didn’t really feel it, and when Peter pulled away, you felt that the numbness that consumed you reflected in your own gaze. He heaved a sigh, fingering the ring on your finger.

“I still love you,” he assured you, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “That’ll never change…and even… Even when I have to do whatever it is I have to do today, I’ll be doing it with love.”

Those words didn’t exactly comfort you, and your eyes briefly closed when he walked you out of the bathroom. The stairs were hard to take, courtesy of your lack of food and what little sleep you’d managed to get. You shook beside Peter, and you knew that it was from more than just not eating. In fact, you were sure you were going to throw up again.

The house was unusually quiet—as well as empty—and that did nothing to alleviate your uneasiness. Peter’s hold on your hand was gentle, and as much you loved to hate him in this moment, you appreciated that he walked outside with you instead of walking you outside like a prisoner. You were surprised by how early it was in the day, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the rising sun. Days in the darkness had them hurting from the harsh natural light.

Just as you got used to it, a familiar and intimidating voice spoke.

“Leave her right there.”

Only, it wasn’t the voice you were used to being on the receiving end of. Your eyes met familiar blue ones as Peter was forced to step away from you, Bucky’s gaze very much transparent as he looked at you. His anger and disgust were palpable, and you found that you couldn’t hold his gaze.

That was a mistake.

“You will look at me,” he sneered, hurrying over to you and harshly gripping your chin.

Behind him, you could see Peter take a step forward only to be stopped by Sam. Bucky’s fingers were painfully pressing into your skin, and as difficult as you found it, you held the brunette’s gaze. It was in that moment that you realized why the house had seemed so quiet on your way out. You noted that the only person missing was Jane, and you guessed with her pregnancy and a need for someone to watch Margaret and Sharon’s children, they decided to kill two birds with one stone.

They clearly didn’t want to stress her, and that only made you more fearful of what was in store for you.

“We’re not stupid, you know,” Bucky said to you, and you swallowed. “We expect the odd escape attempt here and there.”

You weren’t used to being on the receiving end of Bucky’s venomous gaze, blue eyes icy.

“We look forward to it even,” he confessed. “None of you will ever succeed, so it helps you realize that, and you get it out of your systems.”

You blinked back tears, and Bucky took note of them, lip curling over his teeth.

“In fact…we had been anticipating yours from the moment we let you out of that basement, but I guess you really were too docile to fight back properly,” he continued, voice growing bitter. “Too docile even to tell one of us when our wife was trying to escape.”

When you blinked again, a tear finally escaped, and you didn’t know if you were supposed to respond. Evidently you were.

“What?” Bucky wondered, roughly letting your chin go. “Nothing to say for yourself?”

Your chest heaved with a deep breath, and you started to glance around.

“No, don’t look at them. Look at me,” Bucky ordered. “After all, it was my wife who anything could’ve happened to.”

When your gaze met his again, more tears spilled over, and you sniffed.

“I’m sorry-.”

“We expect you to fight back…try and make a run for it… What we don’t expect is more loyalty to a traitorous wife than the men of the house,” he interrupted you, spitting the words out and making you flinch. “…because anything could come of that. You could kill one of us.”

“I… I’m sorry,” you said again, knowing it wouldn’t change anything but also knowing it was what he wanted to hear.

Bucky stared at you for a long time—too long—just looking down his nose at you as if he could barely stand to look at you. You were all too aware of the eyes on you, all too aware of the example being made out of you. You were in the dark about what was going to happen, now, and it made you want to be sick. However, of all the things you expected…

You didn’t expect Bucky to quickly grab your arm, twisting it—and you with his other arm—before violently shoving you to the ground. It happened so fast that when you finally cried out in pain, clutching your wrist, you were already looking up at him from the grass. He wasn’t looking at you though, hands behind his back as he stepped away from you.

“There are two outcomes for you today,” he started, making his way towards Peter who looked like he was moments away from committing murder—again. “Personally, I’m partial to either outcome…”

When you started to push yourself to your feet, the dark-haired man heard it, pausing to look at you with a wag of his finger.

“No, no. You don’t get up yet…”

Heart sinking, you sat back down, clutching your arm to you as you looked between him and Peter.

“The first,” he dragged out, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “We finally get to see what Peter has in him…”

You froze, skin growing cold and heart dropping to your gut.

“…see if he has what it takes to make you…” Bucky turned his gaze to you, eyes glinting wickedly “…beg him to stop.”

You couldn’t stop more tears from spilling over, the realization of what this day could possibly bring crashing down on you like a wave. When you glanced over, your eyes met a familiar green pair, and Nat’s disgust and regret was plain as day on her face. She looked at you like she wanted to take your place in a heartbeat, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

You couldn’t hold in your sob, pressing your hand to your mouth.

“You can’t cry, now,” Bucky’s voice reached you as he neared you. “We haven’t even started yet.”

He forced you to your feet, and his hands were the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

When you first got here, Peter promised that that would never be you. He told you that he would never, but considering the circumstances of your offense, that choice was no longer up to him. You couldn’t stop sobbing, choking noises climbing out of your throat as Bucky continued.

“The other option is two months in the basement.”

When your eyes met Bucky’s again, there was a gleam in his eye and a curve to his lips that told you it wouldn’t be so easy as choosing which you’d prefer. You didn’t even want to say that the choice would be easy if given one because while your worst fear was recreating what Margaret had to go through during your first days here…you also knew that two months down in that darkness would break you beyond belief.

Two months down there, and you were sure you wouldn’t even be yourself when you emerged.

“It all depends on who gets to you first,” Bucky softly said, making you frown at him.

When he stepped away, you swayed on your feet, but his hand met your arm again when he turned you towards the small pond, free arm gesturing towards the dense trees behind it.

“Those legs that are near and dear to Peter’s heart are going to take you as far as you can go…”

His whispered words made you frown.

“Now, don’t think that you’re getting away…” he looked at you and you slowly looked at him. “…because you’re not. Someone will catch you, it’s only a matter of who, and that determines if this pretty little dress is coming off or not.”

His reminder of one of the possibilities made you lightheaded, and you pressed your hand to your chest when he walked away.

“If Peter catches you, then Peter will do what he has been instructed to do…”

The man in question spoke up, quietly pleading with Bucky, but the older man ignored him.

“…and I was going to participate in this little game,” Bucky said, jaw ticking as he looked at you. “…but you deserve to be terrified after what you did.”

You pressed your lips together, blinking away tears as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“So…” he backed up, a small smile on his pink lips. “If Steve catches you…”

You couldn’t stop your knees from buckling, world spinning as you caught yourself on your hands and knees. Your skin pricked, and you felt almost on the verge of a heart attack.

“He gets to put you in the basement…” a pause. “Again.”

The sounds of the world were going in and out, and once again, you felt like you were going to throw up. Both options were the last thing you ever wanted, and once you ran into those trees, you didn’t know what would relieve you less—the sight of Peter or the sight of Steve. It was sick, really, because obviously you would rather be caught by Peter, but not if it meant…that.

…and if Steve caught you, you just knew it wasn’t going to be that simple

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Bucky’s words were mocking, filled with a mixture of disdain and satisfaction, and as you looked up at him, you didn’t know who you hated more—him or Steve. The blond in question was someone you had avoided looking at since you stepped outside, bitter to see the sick satisfaction that no doubt covered his features at your humiliation.

Your comeuppance.

Pushing yourself to your feet was a struggle, and you didn’t look at Peter, too afraid to realize that he might be who you wanted to catch you, after all, even if it did mean public humiliation beyond comprehension. You felt beyond alone as you walked down the small decline, the dewy grass so nice against the soles of your feet despite the circumstances.

It was only when you got to the tree line, staring inside, did it hit you.

You were going to be hunted and chased down like some animal, and depending on who caught you first, that was what your punishment would be. Both options were enough to make your stomach flip, and for the life of you, you just couldn’t decide which was better. With a panicked sob, you forced your feet to move.

Every tree looked just like the other to you, and there was nothing in these woods to signal some kind of progress as you ran. It was crazy to think that there had once been days when you dreamed about being in these woods, closer to freedom and away from the craziness you’d been forced into. Now, however, you were in said trees and all you could think about was who would get to you first.

Bucky’s words echoed in your mind.

It wasn’t a matter of whether either of them would catch you. Both of you knew that you weren’t getting away from here, let alone from Peter or Steve in these woods. One of them was going to find you first, and even as you brushed past harmful branches and stumbling vines, you still didn’t know which choice presented to you was better. More than anything, you wanted it to be Peter to find you, but could you be okay with being raped for the whole household to see? This wasn’t like that day with Margaret…

Both Steve and Bucky wanted to make the biggest example out of you, and so the entire household would be there to witness your humiliation. However…it was one day. One hour even at the most of Peter doing what he normally did whenever you were alone…just in front of everyone else. If Steve caught you on the other hand…

Two months in the basement was a thought that actually made your knees shake, causing you to stumble against a tree. You knew—you knew—that you couldn’t handle that, and you knew that Peter knew it too. One option was just one bad day, that was all, but the other option would turn you into even more of a mess than you already were. You’d spent less than a week down there at the most, and both times were hell for you.

The second more so than the worst, and you didn’t want to unpack why that was.

When you heard a tree branch snap, you felt yourself freezing. The tree you were next to was larger, much larger than you, and you remained perfectly still as your hand rested against it. You had only stopped for a few moments, and the whole time you’d been lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even heard any footsteps. In fact, something in you told you that you were supposed to hear the snap of that branch.

When you dared to peek around the trunk, all of your breath left you.

The sight of Steve’s blond hair and back was a stomach turning one, and just as quietly as you peeked around, you hid yourself behind the tree once more. With one movement, you could end this torture and not have to be fucked for the whole household to see, but no matter how much you didn’t want that…you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

…because you didn’t want the alternative either.

Steve terrified you beyond belief—something Bucky had acknowledged—and something in you just knew that he wasn’t going to find you and take you back to the house as easy as that. Outside of raping Margaret, you had never heard of Steve doling out any kind of physical abuse, but you had a sneaking suspicion that Steve would strike you square across the face if he could get away with it.

Peeking around the tree again, you watched him walk away, scanning the area before him for any sign of you. Your nails pressed into the trunk, and with a sinking heart, you both accepted and hoped that Peter would find you, making peace with what that meant for you. With Steve completely out of your sight, you didn’t know which way to go, and so you went forward, adjacent to the direction Steve went.

You felt like you were getting so turned around the further you walked, and you wondered what would happen if you just decided to go back to the house. You wondered how the punishment would be decided then—provided you actually made it back without being caught. The thought of being caught by Steve prevented you from remaining calm and thinking clearly.

Or maybe it was everything else that did that.

You could feel a familiar burn behind your eyes, and you struggled to swallow, throat feeling incredibly tight. You’d thought that you cried enough in the basement, but that kept proving to be untrue. A few tears skipped down your face before many more followed behind, and you took in a shaky breath.

How was it that you hated Peter so so much for what he did…while also wanting nothing more than to just return to your bedroom with him when this was over? You didn’t want to go back down there, alone and bathed in darkness. You wanted to sleep in your bed with Peter and you wanted him to hold you while you cried about the very thing he’d done that caused the tears.

You hated him, but you wanted to be near him.

You didn’t want to hate him from afar. You wanted to hate him while staring at his face every night and listening to the sound of his breathing and feeling his hands on your shoulder as he sat behind you in the bathtub. You hated Peter so much for what he did—and lying about it—but it just wasn’t the kind of hate where you couldn’t stand the sight of him, and you hated him all the more for that.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of footsteps, and considering you’d gone in the opposite direction of Steve, you were prepared to meet your fate when your gaze would meet that of a familiar brown one. Only, the eyes that met yours weren’t brown…they were blue…and you felt your lips part.

You didn’t hesitate to run the other way, a scream climbing out of your throat when you were tackled to the ground. Steve’s hand was pressed to the back of your head as he slammed your face against the leaves and sticks, making you gasp, and when his arm snaked around your neck, a choked sound left you.

You weren’t surprised when he threw you to the dirt again.

“I knew…” he started, slowly following you as you attempted to crawl away. “From the moment Peter gave us that crock of shit about a gentler method, I fucking knew.”

You clawed at the dirt when Steve reached down to pull on one of your legs.

“I knew then that he was being too soft with you,” he spat, flipping you over. “I knew that it would come back to bite us.”

Steve squatted over you, one hand tightly curling around your throat, and you struggled to breathe as he slowly forced you to your feet. Your scraped at his hand, gaze tearful and pleading as Steve stared you down, nostrils flaring. His blond hair was a mess, an unusual sight for you, but those blue eyes were as cold as ever.

Steve really hated you.

“Bucky is better than me,” Steve hissed at you. “…because if Margaret had gotten as far as Nat did because of you, I wouldn’t make Peter stop until you were begging for him to put you out of your misery.”

You pushed at his hands, panicked, and he only shook you in response.

“You think he’s your best fucking friend,” Steve breathed through clenched teeth, sizing you up. “Instead of the man who owns you.”

When he threw you down, your head spun, and you struggled to right your vision. You pressed your hands to your temples as you cried, fighting the urge to curl in on yourself.

“That ends today…”

Steve’s words were spoken with finality, and you didn’t quite understand the meaning of them as you heard approaching footsteps. You heard Steve exhale, and when you dared to look up, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Peter.

“Peter,” he acknowledged. “Love that timing of yours.”

Peter didn’t hesitate to hurry towards you, placing a hand on your head as you sobbed. As you’d suspected, you knew it wasn’t going to be that simple if Steve caught you instead, and you realized just how complicated it was going to be at the sound of his next words.

“We need to make sure nothing like this happens again, Peter,” Steve told him, and they shared a look, something unspoken between them that had Peter’s jaw clenching.

“So, is that why you forgot who she belongs to? Is that why you treated her like you used to treat Peggy on her really bad days? She’s already terrified of you. What more do you want?” he sneered at him, briefly looking at you and brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I need her to be terrified of you,” Steve answered, hands on his hips. “I told you from the beginning that you were too soft with her. I told you what needed to be done for her to get it.”

“Yeah, Steve, alright, I get it-!”

“…but you don’t,” Steve yelled at Peter, staring at the younger man just like a brother would. “You don’t get it because if you did, this would’ve never happened.”

Steve gestured around, cutting you a scathing look that made you wither.

“She would’ve never felt more loyal to Nat than the men who run this household. She would’ve understood that she exists to serve you and the house as a whole by extension.”

You hated the way Peter’s hands slowed on your face, and when you looked at his own face, he looked to be deep in thought.

“Not just the wives and whatever they think is best, but what’s best for the family,” Steve paced. “You are going to make her understand that she’s not your friend and certainly not your fucking equal.”

You watched Peter defeatedly exhale, eyes falling closed.

“You are going to make her understand that, right now,” Steve snarled.

“Steve…”

Peter’s tone was pleading, and that was when you finally sat up, looking between them with a racing heart. You scooted back, but Peter’s hand on your arm prevented you from going far. When your gaze met his, his eyes had softened, something in them pleading with you.

“I will make you, Peter.”

Steve’s tone was scarily calm, and you glanced at him, lips shaking at the malice in his eyes.

“Do you understand me? I will not rest until I catch her slipping up again, and depending on my mood that day, I just might make you fuck her right there in the garden for all to see,” he quietly told him. “So, it’s either now or it’s later…but it is happening. You decide.”

In truth, you didn’t know why you were crying. You had already accepted that you’d rather get the bad thing over with than drag it out for two months. However, that was the thing, wasn’t it? Steve was going to make Peter do this and still turn around and throw you right down in that basement. Even though there was less humiliation involved, it still seemed unfair.

“Do this and…maybe I can convince Bucky to only leave her down there for a month,” Steve proposed, and by the tone of his voice, he knew that he’d won.

You barely had time send Steve a scathing look of your own before your back roughly met the ground.

Peter’s mannerisms were rough, and while you knew it was because Steve wanted them to be, it didn’t mean you had to like it. You didn’t think Peter had ever been rough with you, and you cried out at the harsh pull on your hair, his other hand painfully digging into your waist.

“See, you need to understand, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice reached your ears as he circled you. “That you belong to Peter. You exist as an extension of him, now. You exist to exalt him, and the only way that you will get it in your head that you’re his property…”

Peter had flipped you onto your stomach, now.

“Is if he treats you like it.”

You yelped when your chest was forced to the ground, Peter manhandling you in the way he knew Steve wanted.

“…and what better way to do that than to show you that he can and will take you wherever and whenever regardless of who is around to see it,” he slowly said, making sure he was heard loud and clear.

The humiliation of feeling Peter push his cock into you before Steve’s very eyes had you squeezing yours shut, a harsh sob escaping as Peter’s skin slapped against yours. His hand was on your throat, and you clawed at it, gasping when his teeth pressed into your shoulder.

“You don’t have autonomy over your body anymore. You don’t exist independently of Peter, and that extends to this family…”

Peter’s harsh thrusts made your toes curl, and what was once a rough entry had become much smoother. With no warning and feeling wholly unprepared for this turn of events, tears escaped your eyes, and your fingers dug into the grass and dirt. The feel of Peter’s cock pushing into your walls was a familiar one you’d grown to love, but the sound of Steve’s pacing steps and voice made you want to crawl in a hole.

You felt torn apart.

“Had you previously understood that, all of this could’ve been prevented.”

Steve sounded pleased with himself—and Peter—and the thought made you sick. When Peter pulled your head back, you winced, and you started to move away from him, wanting this earlier and regretting it now—especially since you were going back into the basement anyway.

When Peter’s lips grazed your ear, you shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you, hand painfully pulling at your hair, making you cry out again.

You recalled Peter’s words from earlier, and you knew why this was happening. You understood the hierarchy in the household, understood that what Steve said went, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Steve would’ve absolutely made this happen for the whole house to say. You understood that this was the better alternative, but that understanding is what made you cry more.

This wasn’t something to be understood. The man thrusting into you had killed your friends and kidnapped you, and the man before you had helped. Peter wasn’t your husband or your lover but instead your captor and rapist. Nothing about any of this was right, and in this moment, you shouldn’t be rationalizing or understanding anything.

…but you did.

You understood why Peter grabbed you with no hesitation and proceeded to fuck you under Steve’s watchful eye. You understood why being raped for all to see had briefly been the better choice to you than being sent back into the basement. You understood why Peter was murmuring sweet nothings and apologies into your ear as he roughly held you down and plunged his cock into you.

You understood it all, and you hated it.

You didn’t want to simultaneously hold Peter closer and push him away as he roughly fucked you against the grass, face to face with you, now. You didn’t want him to obey when Steve told him to fuck you harder. You didn’t want to understand that Peter didn’t actually want this because if that were true he simply wouldn’t do it, right? You didn’t want to accept that this house didn’t follow the rules of the outside world and that so long as you were here—and you would be here forever—neither would you.

“Are you sorry, now?” Steve wondered, somehow able to hear his voice over the sound of your cries. “Hmm?”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer, but you knew you gave him that anyway the moment you started crying. When Peter’s eyes met yours, he shushed you, a poor attempt to make this better somehow, and his next words made you blink.

“Do you see how much worse I could be?” he whispered, too low for Steve to hear. “How much worse they want me to be?”

You stared at him, nails digging into the skin of his arm, and with another harsh sob, you nodded.

“Do you understand what I’ve been trying to protect you from?”

Again, you nodded.

Peter’s nose grazed your own.

“Do you get it now?” he sadly asked you.

When you nodded again, unable to find your voice between cries, Peter shushed you. His fingers pressed into your skin, and his hips painfully came down against yours. When his lips pressed against yours, they swallowed the noises that escaped your throat.

“I never wanted this for you.”

…and you knew Peter was telling the truth.

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #dark fic #peter parker imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #cop au

[dungeonmechoui]

Unprofessional yuri save me.. save me unprofessional yuri.. (image description in alt text)

#cithadol #cithis #pattadol #before anyone starts clowning the prison warden is Not a teen! seems to be the fanon for some people but respectfully i Strongly Disagree #anyway back to business - anyone else started shipping them after the modern AU company meal outing comic that kui posted some time ago ? #this ship is even funnier the longer i think about it because Pattadol is not even Cithis' warden ! thats mithrun ! #i could see cithis wanting to do her 'seduce my warden' strategy twice (see her lore page) but then she gets mister depression man #so all she can do to amuse herself is focus her efforts on the other cop there as a little hobby. probably helps that pat is young & pretty #but also deeply annoying so finding ways to make her shut up and stop nagging the crew is a motivating endeavor #okay ill shut up now #dungeon meshi #just cooking my stew (art tag)

[lipglossanon]

Desire (I’m Hungry)

Corrupt Cop!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

<< previous installment >>

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Leon POV, dark thoughts, being filmed without consent aka Leon’s making a sex tape and reader has no clue, dirty talk, daddy kink, kissing, biting, blood kink, oral (m & f receiving), pussy spanking, clit biting, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✌️

today marks one year that I officially published my first Leon x reader fic that just happened to be Corrupt Cop Leon! 💜 so happy anniversary to the OG! 😘

Title from Desire by Meg Myers 💜

It’s not unusual to see a police cruiser parked outside the library on any given night. Especially when you’re inside, finishing up whatever class work you can before heading home. 

Leon leans back against the passenger door, one leg crossed over the ankle of the other, arms folded over his chest. His walkie’s turned off since he’s not on duty and he can hear the whispers of people passing him by, from the curious looks of kids to loose women giving him sultry smiles. Except for a cursory glance, his mind doesn’t linger on any single one of them. 

Drumming his fingers on his bicep, he tilts his head as he catalogs the outside of the building. He’s done this a thousand times at this point. Even before you knew he came around, when he would follow you home and watch you from his squad car. He kind of misses those days.    

The sound of a door opening pulls his attention up the library steps. Once you fully step out into the cool evening air, your eyes immediately seek him out. Satisfaction coils deep in his gut as your face breaks out into a bright smile at seeing him. Although he loved quietly following you, having you seek him out is much better. His eyes track your body as you carefully take the stairs and walk over to him. 

He only had to chastise you one time about not rushing down the steps. (You cried so prettily on his cock after he spanked your pussy raw. But the lesson stuck and he hasn’t had to remind you once, such a good girl). 

“Hi,” your soft voice hits his ears and he’s smirking at your shyness. 

“Hi, pretty girl, ready to go?”

You nod, “All set. Thank you for taking me home.”

“Of course, don’t want you getting hurt,” he murmurs, uncrossing his arms to brush a thumb across your cheekbone, “here, let me take your bag.”

Eyes fond, you hand him your book bag and wait for him to open the passenger door for you. Watching as you sit, he sees when your skirt rucks up around your thighs and it makes his blood run hot, pulse quickening in his neck. He walks around the trunk of the car, placing your bag in the back before climbing into the driver seat. 

He checks his mirrors and blind spots before pulling away from the curb. As soon as he’s on the street, his hand grips the dough of your thigh closest to the gear shift. A giddy thrum of excitement bleeds through his thoughts when he hears your little gasp. You’re so easy for him. His pretty, perfect girl. 

He no longer stifles those thoughts or impulses that once might have gotten him locked up. You invite his dark urges in with wet eyes and an even wetter cunt. Today’s special even if you don’t know it. He’s planned a little surprise, something he’s been wanting to do for a while now. 

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he watches you surreptitiously, taking in the  changing expressions as he drives closer and closer to your house. Just seeing your face makes him ache all the way down to his marrow. He wants to sink his teeth into you until he tastes blood.

“Should we eat out for dinner?”

He glances over at you and tightens his fingers, giving your thigh a quick squeeze. 

“Sure, sweetheart.”

He parks outside your house, letting you walk up to your front stoop first as he grabs your bag. You unlock the door as soon as he joins you, his hand palming your lower back to usher you into the house. Dropping your school bag down onto the floor, he uses both hands to grip your hips, pushing you back against the closed front door. 

Desire pulses throughout his body, a deep seated hunger that makes him want to crack open your rib cage and crawl inside. He’s sure your beating heart would sate this visceral reaction to the possessive want that engulfs his thoughts.

But kissing you will have to suffice for now. 

Your lips part on a sigh as he licks into your mouth, tongue greedy and hot as he tastes you deeply. His fingers dig into your skin, thumbs pressed uncomfortably against your hip bones; he gloats to himself as the twinge of pain has you arching into him. If he could, Leon would rip you apart at the seams, swallow you whole til nothing’s left. 

You whimper into his harsh kisses while your hands grab onto his chest, badge nearly pricking your fingers as you try to find purchase against his uniform. He lets go of your waist to circle his fingers around your wrists, pushing them against the door on either side of your head. Pulling back, his sea dark eyes take in your dilated pupils and swollen lips. 

Now, he thinks, is the perfect time to drag you into your room.

Leon kisses you again, heatedly, pulling you into the bedroom with little preamble. For the surprise he’s been planning, he made sure to sneak into your house earlier in the day. He then hid a camera perfectly angled on your nightstand where you couldn’t see it. 

His mouth waters at the thought of filming everything he wants to do to you. Excitement heightens his aggressiveness. He can’t wait to take you apart in front of the lens, especially without you knowing. He shivers as he licks hungrily into your mouth. 

“Leon,” you whisper when he drags his mouth down to bite your neck, “thought we were going out to dinner?”

“Well, I am gonna eat you out,” he crudely states with a grin, “but first let’s see those pretty tits.”

Biting your bottom lip softly, you step back and pull your shirt off. His eyes watch as you nervously take off your bra and drop it into the floor with your shirt. Leon lets his hands reach out to grope and pinch your hard nipples. His cock throbs where it’s trapped in his pants.

“Get naked, pretty girl, wanna see you,” he coaxes, smile wicked when you do as he says.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, he faces the camera, pulling you down into his lap, your back to his chest. The juxtaposition of having you completely naked on his lap while he’s in uniform makes him bite down on your shoulder hard. You squeal and try to move, but he wraps his arms around you, pinning you in place. 

After you settle down, his hands move to squeeze the fat of your breasts until it dimples between his fingers. Your nipples tighten even further under his palms as he runs them across the stiff buds. 

“Such a good girl,” he kisses the side of your neck, eyes glinting when they look over to the hidden device, “bet that cute pussy’s soaked, sweetheart.”

Squirming against him, you whine pitifully, grinding your wet cunt down onto his bulge, “Daddy, please.”

“Such a well mannered girl,” he coos sweetly, luring you into relaxing against him further. 

The flat of his fingers come down in a hard slap against your pussy, a sharp gasp parting your pretty lips. Leon spanks across your fat cunt until you’re hiccuping little cries, tears streaming down your face to drip onto your chest. Even with the pain, you still part your legs for him, letting him drag his fingers across your wet slit. 

He wonders absently as he toys with your clit if you’d let him bite you here, sink his teeth in your sweet little bud til you scream. That thought alone has precum dripping from his tip, making his briefs damp. 

“Such a slutty cunt,” he whispers in your ear, feeling you shiver, “like when daddy shows you who’s in charge, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir,” you sniffle wetly. 

That ugly need to hurt you ramps up again and he pinches your clit roughly until you bleat in pain. 

“Good girl,” he chuckles, fingers softly petting your cunt, “my perfect girl.”

“All yours, daddy,” you automatically respond. 

Your voice is hoarse from all your crying and it makes his chest burn like his solar plexus is caving in.

“That’s right,” he croons, cupping your breasts in his hands, thumbs swiping across your nipples, “daddy’s got such a smart pretty girl.”

He wants to laugh at how those words make you press against him, praise making you stupid and pliant for him.

“Get on the floor,” he pushes at your shoulders, “think that sweet mouth deserves a reward.”

Eagerly, you slide off his lap onto your knees, turning around to face him. He unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants, pushing them down his thighs so he can tuck his briefs underneath his balls comfortably. His weeping cock bobs in front of your face, tip brushing across your cheek and smearing precum across your skin. 

“Kiss it, baby, show me how much you want daddy in your mouth,” he grins at you. 

Your shyness just makes him harder as you press a feather light kiss to his dick. He watches as your lips and tongue work in tandem to gently kiss and lick at his fat cockhead. You sigh hard enough he feels the dampness of your breath before your tongue lathes underneath the foreskin, lapping up the sticky precum dripping from his slit. You moan while you taste him, eyes fluttering closed as you get more and more eager at sucking him off. 

Thighs twitching, he grunts when you suck him into your warm mouth, tongue cupping the head when you withdraw, lips tightly wrapped around the tip of his dick. He feels as you circle the head of his cock with your tongue, dipping the slick muscle into his slit to draw out more precum. 

“Good girl,” he groans when your mouth drops down to kiss and suck at his balls. 

Leon keeps his gaze on you as you try to suck both of his balls into your wet mouth, whimpering when you can only fit one. Smearing your own spit across your face, you nuzzle into his squishy sac, mouthing and lapping at the sensitive skin before sucking each of his balls again. 

Whining, you eagerly lap at his sac, tongue slowly tracing up the seam. Your lips meet the base of his cock before you flick your tongue back around his balls. Reaching down, he grabs the back of your neck, pulling your mouth up to suck on his cock. A choked off moan reverberates around his dick as your lips part to sink down around the first few inches. His abs tense when he feels the spit drip down his dick onto his balls. 

“So good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, halfway tempted to gag you on his dick— maybe even choke you on it til you pass out.

More precum blurts across your tongue as he pictures your eyes rolling back, body going limp from lack of air. His fingers spasm around your neck as the tip bumps into the back of your throat. Bucking up into your mouth, the tightness around his cock increases and you retch loudly. 

“Take it or I’m going to get mean with you,” he narrows his eyes down at you.

You cough again, a wet dirty sound as he pulls his cock halfway out of your mouth only to press back in deep, the fat head kissing the back of your throat immediately. It would be easy to keep you here, swallowing around him til he came or you blacked out. His eyes cut to the hidden camera before flicking back down to you. Maybe next time he’ll try it, but for now he wants to make this last longer for the video. 

Rolling his neck til it cracks, he lets you go, watching with hidden glee as you pull off with a gross coughing fit and wet eyes. The dough of your thighs press together drawing his gaze where he can actually see a light sheen of slick coating them. Taking a hitched shuddery breath, you lean forward and kitten lick the head, soft tongue cleaning up any precum spilling from the slit down his cock. 

A flash of your mouth split open and a bloody chin makes Leon place his hands under your armpits and yank you up, turning sideways to toss you onto the bed. He crawls on top of you and kisses you hard enough to bruise. Sinking teeth into your lower lip, he brings his vision to life as he works the wet skin til it splits, the warm taste of pennies flooding his mouth. 

Growling like an animal, he sucks your bloody lip raw. He finally leans up, taking in the mess of your mouth with unreasonable pride. 

“So pretty,” he smiles down at you, blood coating his teeth, “my sweet girl.”

“Yours,” you nod dazedly, eyes blown in arousal, “m’yours, daddy.” 

He moves off the bed and begins to undress, taking extra care to set his holster and gun on top of your dresser. Once his uniform is off, he lays it out on a nearby chair in order to keep it off the floor. It just wouldn’t do to get it unnecessarily dirty. 

He climbs back onto the bed, eyes zeroing in on your bleeding mouth with the awareness of a predator tracking prey. He smiles and grabs your thighs, shoving them up until they’re nearly touching your shoulders. 

“Think it’s time I kiss my sweet girl hello,” his eyes drop from yours down to your soaked cunt, “aww, she always cries so hard for me, baby.”

He shuffles down onto his stomach, hands still pressing on your thighs as he leans in and kisses your swollen cunt.

“Greedy little pussy,” he chuckles derisively, “always begging for more.”

He slides his hands down from your thighs to the outside of your cunt, pulling your pussy lips apart to spit on your clenching hole. 

“Daddy!” 

He hears your voice crack before you gasp when he plunges his tongue into your pussy, fluttering the wet muscle as deep as possible into your spasming walls. You always taste like heaven, like he could die suffocated on your cunt and he’ll never find anything better. His eyes roll back when your slick floods his mouth, clit fat and swollen against his nose as your cunt squeezes down on his tongue.

Leon’s tongue laps at your hole before he runs the wet muscle up your slit to suck sloppily at your clit. He’s being as messy as possible; he knows you love it when your cunt’s coated in his spit after eating you out. The only thing better is when he cums all over your pussy, making you wear your panties to keep that sweet cunt wet and sticky with his seed. 

Your cries and whines fall on deaf ears as he eats you out at his leisure. He makes you cum twice before finally trying out the little earworm that has eaten away at his brain since earlier. Thighs shaking from the last orgasm, you're completely out of it when Leon dips his head and bites down on your fat throbbing clit. 

He growls and humps the bed as you thrash under him, hips trying to buck up to throw him off, hands digging into his hair but he doesn’t budge. He closes his teeth even tighter around your swollen bud and you screech, legs kicking out at him. Leon laughs at you, arms coming up and pinning your lower half down onto the bed. He readjusts his mouth and bites your clit harder than before. 

“No, no, daddy! Please!”

You sob brokenly and Leon feels like he’s going to cum all over the sheets. Letting go, Leon pulls his mouth away for a second wanting to see your tortured little bundle of nerves. It looks so swollen that it makes his jaw ache. He licks and kisses over your clit until you’re whimpering in pleasure, hips writhing as Leon bathes your cunt with rough swipes of his tongue. He works you up to another orgasm and right as your pussy cums, clenching around nothing, he sinks his teeth back into your clit with a groan. 

“Daddy, daddy! Leon, please!”

Your cunt gushes slick as the pain morphs into pleasure, babbling and pleading for more even as Leon sucks your bud into his mouth, hot tongue circling your abused clit. 

“Ready for daddy to to fuck your pretty little cunt?” He rumbles, tongue lashing across your bundle of nerves making you whine. 

“Please, daddy.”

There’s drool and blood all down your chin and he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon. If he were a better man, he would tell you so. 

Leon crawls back up your body, dragging his cock against your thighs until the tip bumps against your sopping wet pussy. His eyes catalog your wince when his dick drags across your clit and he kisses you until spit runs down your jaw. Balancing himself on one forearm, he brings his other hand down to notch the tip of his cock at your soaked hole. 

“Let me in, pretty girl,” he licks up the blood on your chin as he works his cock into your cunt, “let me stuff this soft little pussy with cum.”

Keening high in your throat, you grind your head against the pillow and Leon takes that opportunity to savagely bite into the side of your neck. He can feel you wheeze in pain underneath his teeth at the same time your pussy walls flutter and clamp down on his cock. Sweet satisfaction hums like electricity in his blood. He trails kisses from the nasty bite mark up to your ear, nipping the lobe. 

“You like what I do to you, don’t you, sweetheart?” He kisses your temple before shifting until his forearms are on either side of your neck, hips rolling back before thrusting forward. 

The tight clutch of your pussy makes him dizzy with lust, knowing he can do anything to you and you’ll not only take it, but like it. The camera is practically an afterthought by this point. Leon’s focus is now on making your hot little pussy cream all over his cock before he shoots his load deep into your hole. 

“Always take it so well,” his baritone rumbles low in his chest and you shudder under him, “got daddy addicted to your soft chubby pussy, baby, always wanna be buried in her.”

Your nails dig into his skin but he loves the stinging scratches you leave on him; proof that you need him just as much as he needs you. He has half a mind to drag this out for hours and hours, but he really wants to send the tape over to Chris. Smugly show off his pretty girl and the sweet sounds she makes for him. 

Leon prides himself on keeping his cool even when he’s buried to the hilt inside your deliciously hot pussy. This time, his nerves fray quicker than he’s used to; too many fun things have happened and all in front of the camera so he can look back on it later. Being able to watch your face again as he bites your clit makes his hips rabbit fast and hard against yours, pussy squelching loudly between your bodies. 

“Got me so worked up,” he laughs, one forearm moving all he can glide his fingers down your side and across your hip, seeking out your sore clit, “squeeze the cum out of me, sweetheart, let daddy give you a nice thick creampie.”

“Ohhh,” you moan shakily, “daddy, please, w’nt it.”

“You’re gonna get it,” he promises, voice dark, “you’re gonna take everything I give you.”

The hot pulsing walls of your pussy makes his hips flex harder, bullying his cock into your cervix, needing to get as deep as possible in your body. 

“Sucking me in,” he murmurs, fingers gently circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, “your sweet cunt’s made for this, isn’t she baby?”

“Yes, Leon, ‘m made for you,” you babble out, eyelashes sticking together from tears as you pant and moan, “daddy, I’m g’nna cum.”

“Fuck, then do it, pretty girl, cream all over me, work this cum into that sweet hole,” he groans when your walls clamp down on his dick. 

He swipes across your clit a few more times as he ruts his cock in and out of your pussy, grinding the fat tip across your g-spot until your back arches, a loud scream pouring from your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he praises, knowing you can't hear him, “doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

As your soft walls pulse and flutter around his dick, he adjusts his hands to hold him up above your body so he can rail you into the mattress. 

“Too much,” you whimper, “Leon, s’too deep.”

“Shhh,” he reaches down to twist a nipple until you clench around his cock, “let me rearrange those guts, baby, daddy needs to cum, too.”

You nod, tears falling down your temples to collect on the pillow and his hips snap harder— the sight of you crying on his cock always does him in quick. He thrusts half a dozen more times before his hips begin to stutter. Burying himself balls deep, Leon’s cock kicks and throbs while he spills hot sticky cum all inside your clenching pussy walls. 

While he fills your cunt with rope after rope of thick jizz, he groans long and low against your ear, “Perfect baby, taking it so well for me.”

“Leon,” you whisper lightly, hands carding through his hair and giving him goosebumps.

He settles his body weight down on you, cock plugging up your pussy so his cum doesn’t leak out onto the bedspread. 

“Gotta surprise for you,” he kisses the side of your head and slowly maneuvers until he can quickly shuffle you around to face the hidden lens. 

He pulls out his half chubbed cock, cream colored slick oozing from your pussy when he spreads it open. 

Smiling up at you, he nods to your nightstand, “Smile for the camera, sweetheart. Show’em what a messy little pussy looks like.”

He watches in utter delight as your brows pinch together before realization dawns across your face. Tears bead in your eyes and he chuckles. 

“Aww don’t be that way,” he croons, fingers digging into your used hole to work more cum into spilling out between your thighs, “be a good girl and let everyone see the creampie daddy left in your pretty cunt.”

Your cubby lips stay spread as he fingers more of his cum out of your hole. 

“So swollen baby,” he groans, fingers glancing across your fat clit, “can’t wait to watch this back.”

You squirm but he catches the hitched breath and dilated eyes. Grinning darkly, he nuzzles against your ear. 

“Maybe next time it’ll be a livestream of how I ream my pretty girl’s tight little pussy,” he kisses the shell of your ear as you moan quietly, “yeah, or maybe we’ll get someone in to watch me take you apart.”

You shiver and writhe against him, pussy sucking his fingers in even as he slowly drags them out of your spent cunt. 

“Guess we’ll need to save that for later though,” he clicks his tongue, moving away from you to shut the camera off, “now let’s go get a shower so we can go out to dinner, sweetheart.”

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #corrupt cop!leon kennedy #corrupt cop!leon #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #au #resident evil smut

[kittykatninja321]

Any au that has Jason willingly working for the government even if it’s as a social worker has automatically kinda lost me because we’re talking about someone who distrusts the system so much that as a child he chose the streets over going into custody of social services. Jason’s lack of faith in institutions continues into adulthood (but also through his original Robin tenure low key), one of the most substantial differences between his and Bruce’s philosophy is the fact that Bruce puts his faith in the law and the criminal justice system while Jason decidedly does not in the slightest

#‘Jason would work for Gotham social services as a civilian/day job ’ Would Jason trust Gotham social services? Genuinely honest question #feel free to answer with panels and stuff #I just don’t see him as someone who trusts state institutions or The System at all #Jason Todd #Dc #You could sorta look at the diplomat’s son case as a difference between Bruce and Jason’s faith in the law #Bruce just sorta throws his hands up and goes ‘law has our hands tied’ and Jason is very unsatisfied with this answer #and he may or may not do something very much outside of the law in response #Tangent note: cop comparisons aside any au that has Jason actually working inside a police department has lost the plot #Jason Todd says fuck 12 he told me himself

[lotus-seed-love]

Rebel Rebel - Chpt Six

Chapter summary:  (First chapter of smut, yeee XD) Wei Wuxian finds himself in Hanguang-jun’s house, trying to draw breath between kisses. Lan Zhan unwittingly chooses a life of chaos.

Tags (story): Cops AU, urban fantasy au, Drama, Humour, Smut, Minor Angst, LWJ can have noise manipulation magic as a treat, WWX still walking that single-plank bridge, background LXC/JGY, TW: Blood, TW: Homophobia, TW: Xue Yang still loves corpses, punk!WWX, LWJ has a motorbike, Social Justice Warriors, on the hunt for a serial killer, Porn With Plot, playing with canon plot beats is fun, for WWX anyway X'D

Rating: E (story & chapter)

A good day to be alive (AO3 Link)

#wangxian #lan wangji #mdzs #wei wuxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #cql #cops au #urban fantasy #smut

[potatomountain]

"Case: It's You" Masterlist

Pairing: Detective Reader x ot8 detective ateez

Genre: enemies to lovers, romance, eventual smut, dark themes, angst.

Synopsis: As a headstrong detective- forced to transfer to another Precinct after pushing your team, and superiors too far- your new unit is less than pleased by your presence. In fact, they are down right hostile, resulting in more time butting heads than doing your job: taking down the organized crime 'gangs' of your city. Once you finally get your foot in the door, into their circle, you realize you bit off more than you can chew- or maybe it was the perfect place for you.

Chapter 1 Teaser | Chapter 2 Teaser

Chapters:

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Sixteen | Seventeen |Eighteen | Nineteen | Twenty |

If you would like to be added to the taglist, you can apply with this link: form

Big shoutout to my beta readers that are currently the soul motivation for this fic and remind me to edit: @flurrys-creativity @candypop1611 and @daesukiii

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez yeosang #ateez hongjoong #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez seonghwa #ateez au #ateez fanfiction #ateez masterlist #ateez mafia au #ateez detective au #ateez cop au #ateez smut #ateez jongho #ateez san #ateez wooyoung #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #poly ateez x reader #ateez fic #pirateteeznet

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 1

(The Firefighter/Cop AU)

-----

Kara knows her local fire station. How could she not? Being a field sergeant for NCPD, not a week goes by that she’s not at a scene with a ladder, engine or ambulance. Even so, when Engine 13 pulls up on the scene of an apartment fire, a new face comes to get a sit-rep. She’s sure the woman asks some very good questions, but only one word fires across Kara’s mind and out of her mouth.

“M-march?”

The firefighter’s brow furrows. “Sorry?”

God her voice is as beautiful as she is.

“Sorry, what was the question?” Kara stammers.

“I asked how many were still inside?” The woman is clearly still befuddled by Kara’s blurt, but she stays on topic.

Kara clears her throat. “We think three. One is a three year old on the third floor with her mother.”

The firefighter nods. “Thank you, Sergeant,” she says with that same throaty voice. She turns to her crew and begins issuing orders. Kara notes that the men– and all of them are indeed men– launch into motion without question. Huh. Kara files that information away for later.

Kara’s job is done. She steps back to help with crowd control, leaving the rescue team to do their job. She trusts they know what they’re doing, she knows they do. But she can’t help the way her jaw clenches when they file through the smoking door, Firefighter March in the lead.

She can’t believe she did that. March?! Absolutely no one needs to know her familiarity with the NCFD annual calendar. She’d purchased one for the charity of it all, but the moment she’d seen the portrait for March she’d been done for. Let’s just say it’s been March for the past four months.

She must be a transfer from another station, Kara figures. Her image in the calendar confirms that much, let alone the authority she carries within her station's crew. Kara can only hope March doesn’t make the connection between the calendar and Kara’s word vomit.

That hope is dashed after March re-emerges with a middle-aged woman slung over her shoulders (with her comrade carrying the three year old steps behind her) and the fire is reduced to little more than heat and smoke. After passing the mother over to the paramedics, March catches her gaze and approaches, lifting her helmet free of her head to reveal mussed dark hair.

March grins, tucking her helmet under her left arm. “Sergeant,” she greets. “I missed your name earlier.”

“Danvers,” Kara returns, accepting March’s extended hand in a handshake. “Kara Danvers. Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“I appreciate that,” comes the easy response. “I’m Lieutenant Reilly.” 

Kara arches her brow. “Lieutenant?”

“Lena,” she gets with a burst of laughter. “A pleasure.”

For a moment there’s a beat of silence as Kara finds herself tongue-tied. Lieutenant Reilly– Lena– is somehow even more gorgeous sweating with a smudged face and fuzzy hair. Luckily, Lena isn’t nearly so daunted.

“You know,” she says, “being new to the area, I could use a recommendation for a good bar.”

Ohhhhhh, jeezus. Kara recognizes the flirt for what it is, and it fills her belly with butterflies. But she wasn’t made sergeant yesterday. She knows how to give it back.

“I’m sure your guys could point you in a few directions.” She folds her arms over her chest with a teasing smile.

“Ah, but they’re not nearly so cute.”

Lena’s head tilts invitingly, and Kara has no intention of drawing this out.

“Well, then, when can I pick you up?”

Lena beams. “I’m on shift until Sunday. Why don’t you stop by the station tomorrow so we can compare calendars?”

Kara freezes. Oh no, oh no, oh–

“I might even sign yours if you ask nicely.”

Lena shoots her a parting wink before sauntering off. Kara’s cheeks flush as she watches her go. Only when she’s sure Lena is engrossed with packing up her team does Kara finally radio her status back to the dispatcher. Almost instantaneously, she gets back the report of a robbery nearby.

“This is Danvers, Unit 1P4 responding.”

#supercorp #firefighter cop au #meet cute #Kara has a-- um... appreciation #yes #Lena is in the calendar

[blue-sunflower-bee]

Securitywaiter fandom!

Consider this... I NEED this Ness

With this Mike

Aka "Clumsy detective x even clumsier robber that is followed by bad luck"

#had this in while working on my latest chapter #they pretty much dress up with Abby for halloween #and Mike has to play the robber while Abby and Ness are the detectives #and my brain went like #waaaaaiiit #consider this an AU I never knew I needed #fnaf movie 2023 #fnaf #mike schmidt #ness the waiter #ness x mike #mike x ness #securitywaiter #dreamtheory #cops and robbers AU #escape the night #escape the night matpat #burn 2019 #detective ness au #securitywaiter cops and robbers au

[mrtequilasunset]

The Sheriff's grasp on Hanky code is loose at best

#alternatively kims blue hanky could be the medium blue (cop) one #also whether Harry's hanky means anything or not he is still wearing it in the bottom pocket naturally #disco elysium #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #disco elysium cowboy au #harrykim #kimharry #disco elysium art #I put Kim in a different belt thats not what the back of his holster looks like #i know no ones gonna think about it that hard but i am thinking about it that hard and saying it makes me feel better