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#you never know what kind of cop youre going to get
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Scars and Souvenirs
Chapter 19
Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.
Pairing: Sy / OFC
Word count: 2,206
Rating: mentions of war; being a POW, death, talk of trafficking, forced prostitution and assault.
Chapter 19
~~~I was in the hospital for the last 6 days. I had hoped I'd have loads of time to write but in reality I spent that time being a human pin cushion, being sick from meds or having tests. Thanks for being patient with me!~~~
Sy paced impatiently back and forth in the small observation room as he watched Mike through the two way mirror. He'd argued Mike's plea to Walt and the attorneys and they finally relented, though of course there was a cost. Mike wouldn't be allowed to testify at trial after this but they all understood why he needed to do this. He also wanted to do this without Sy or Walt in the room so the compromise was using an interrogation room so they could be close by and see them at all times. He just hoped Mike got the answers he was looking for.
~~~~~~☆~~~~~~
Mike looked up when the door opened. A deputy led Mitch Holmes into the room and cuffed him to the metal ring in the center of the table then left again. Another man, dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase entered. “As agreed on, there will be no recordings, nothing said will be admissible under any circumstances, for anything.  I want it to be known that my client is doing this as an act of kindness and can stop at any time he chooses.” He looked at Mike then at the two way mirror where he knew Walt and Sy were before closing the door and leaving father and son alone while he joined the others behind the glass. 
“Are you OK? I was worried when I heard what happened to you.” Mitch was laying it on thick acting like father of the year. “I can't believe the court let you get involved with that damn man and woman who got you hurt!” He had no idea how much Mike had been told about his involvement in what happened but since he wanted to visit him he doubted that he knew much. Now was time to try and throw Sy and Deb under the bus. If he could get Mike to hate them then he might have a chance with the court. 
“Y..you were worried about me?”
“Of course I was! I should never have agreed to let them take you.”
“The court agreed, not you,” Mike reminded him.
“I've always told you that the court don't give a shit about us and that nosey assed cop neither!” Mitch complained. 
“So, do you have anything you want to ask me?’ when Mitch looked at him like he'd grown a third head he continued. “You've spent your time talking about and blaming everyone but not a single word about you or even me. Why is that?”
“I was talking about how they let you get kidnapped and hurt, Mike. You.. you're not still mad at me over boxin’ your ears when you drank my whiskey are ya? Cause you deserved that,” Mitch shook his finger at him.
Mike shook his head to clear it wondering if he'd somehow ventured into some alternate dimension of crazy. After a few minutes something dawned on him. Walt and Sy had told Mike that Mitch had been held in isolation since being arrested and the only thing he'd been told about Mike was that he'd been rescued and was alive. Mitch had no idea that Mike knew it was him that sold his son to the gang. Sitting up straight Mike leaned closer to the table. “You're a worthless junkie who couldn't pay off his debts so instead of dealing with it like a man, which you aren't, you SOLD me to them! You sold me for the cost of your own fucking habits KNOWING  what they were going to use me for.” 
“You don't talk to me like that!” Mitch snapped.
“Or what? You gonna hit me some more,  Mitch?” He let the sound of the last two letters in his name draw out. “That will never happen again.” Mike stood up and paced around the small room successfully making Mitch antsy and uncomfortable before coming to a stop facing the mirror in front of where Sy was standing on the other side. “When I started trying to arrange this meeting wanted to talk to you about a lot of stuff because I was going to demand answers. The moment I saw you though I realized you would never tell me the truth about anything. You would try to manipulate me to get what you want but nothing more.” He turned to face Mitch. “That being said, what I do want to say,” he sat down and leaned on the table. “I just wanted to say that I hope your prison stay is everything you deserve it to be and I have some friends now that will help me make sure that your cell mates know that you're available to work off your own debts now. Granted I'm sure you won't bring the same price I would have but they will just have to whore you out twice as much.”
“You little fuck!” Mitch growled and tried to lunge for him. Mike was much too fast and moved out of reach.
~~~~~~♡~~~~~~
Geralt watched intently as the doctor force bent Debbie's knee, ready to jump in if he felt he needed to but the woman was tough. There were tears in her eyes and she had his hand squeezed so tight he could hear the bones creak but she did exactly what she had to do.
“I'm impressed with how well you're doing. Incision is healing nicely and I'm going to start your physical therapy this week. Once they get your leg strength built back up…”
“You're going to do another surgery and then I start all over?” She interjected. 
“Not all over but re-healing, yes. Remember it is going to be a long road but we will get there!” 
“I'll get there…” She mocked as the door shut behind him, throwing a roll of tape in frustration. 
Geralt arched his brow at her and tisked but had to bite his lip when she blushed at his mild scolding. The nurse came in and fit a new brace on her leg. It was shorter and had locks so that she could start to bend the knee slowly and not cause damage. Finally, after setting up physio, the next doctor appointment and getting blood work done they made it out to the truck to head home. “Hungry little one?”
“Starving,” She nodded. 
“Pizza, burgers, Mexican, Chinese?” He listed off nearby options. 
“Chinese,” her stomach growled loudly.
When they were seated and placed their orders Deb sipped on a soda then twirled the straw in the bubbly liquid. “You and Sy are really close. He always talked about you but now that we've met on person I can tell the feelings are mutual.” Geralt took a drink of his water waiting to see where this was going. “None of you have girlfriends. Why?”
“A few of us have had in the past. Napoleon often has a female companion but not for long periods. Will has a girl back where he calls home.” 
“You don't agree with attachments though? You think they are an exploitable weakness.” She looked  down at her plate. 
He pondered carefully before answering.  “I think anything that we love or care about has the potential to be used against us. If the person is evil enough or ruthless enough they will exploit anything.”
“I don't want to be a weakness,” She sighed softly.  “I already have been though, for all of you. He called you to help him but if not for me he wouldn't have needed to.” 
“Don't do anything stupid,” he leveled his eyes at her.
“I'm not, i.. I just don't want to be a reason he gets hurt. I want to be an asset not a burden.” She munched a spring roll. 
~~~~~~☆~~~~~~
Sy stretched his back as he walked through the barn with Mike. It had been a crazy day that started with them and their attorney arguing with Mitch's attorney on whether or not Mike could even see him. Once they met most of Mitch's demands, around four in the afternoon, then it was finally 
tiime for the meeting. “Did you get what you wanted out of the meeting?” He asked Mike.
Mike scratched Rose's snout and neck. “I wanted him to explain why he would do all this to me? Why does he hate me so much that he would sell me to someone who was going to pimp me out? Why?” His voice rose as he turned to face Sy. “What about me is so fucking broken that….” He choked up and spun to the left punching a wall in frustration. 
Sy went to him and pulled him into a hug but quickly let go when Mike fought against it. “Kid you're not the one who's broken, he is. Your old man has an addiction but it's more than that. Mitch is,” he struggled to find the right words. “He's a monster. He is the one who disappointed you, who let you down.”
“No one else ever saw that.” Mike demanded.
“Because it's true,” Sy stood firm. 
“And what about Debbie and everything that happened to her because of me?” He yelled. “She nearly died because you both tried to help me!”
“What? Mike, no, that wasn't your fault. You and Deb both got caught up in something that you had no control over. You didn't do this to her anymore than she did it to you.”
“They took us because Mitch sold me!”
“Walter pulled Deb and I in on the gang case. We got involved knowing the risks, kid. You two happened to be together so they took you both. Your old man set it up, sure but they took her hoping to get information about our investigation.”
“He's right,” Deb said as she limped over to them on her crutches. When they pulled up they saw Sy's truck by the barn and stopped. “Truth be told, we all try to protect each other from bad stuff and sometimes end up making it worse. Sy was working with Walt and shut me out of the investigation trying to protect me. On my end all I saw was him secretly texting and calling some random woman, sneaking off to meet her in secret. Instead of talking to him about it I threw myself into my work which got me involved with the corrupt detective. I convinced myself that what Lindy said about me not being enough for Sy was true and was trying to distance myself so it wouldn't be such a shock when he left me.” It was the first time she'd said some of that out loud. Sy was looking at her like she was from Mars and Mike looked like he wanted it to be true. “I don't even pretend that I have all the answers any more because the truth is that I'm more worried now than ever but the few things I do know, I'm sure of. Love gets you hurt whether it's unintentionally or not. Loving someone makes you a point of weakness for them and leaves them open to getting hurt. What is the alternative? We've all found each other and formed bonds which I think we are weaker without. If we run away from each other then we're vulnerable and will do anything to find each other.” She scrubbed her hands over her face in frustration.  “I can't make you believe the truth any more than I can force you to stay here if you're determined to leave. None of this was your fault and I hope you believe that, Mike.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead, “and we want you here.”
Everything broke through Mike's walls at once and they crumbled. He wrapped his arms around Deb and buried his face against her shoulder and neck as the dam broke and he sobbed. He sobbed for his past, his childhood, his asshole father, his mom that left him and all the shit that happened recently. He cried until he had no tears left. He felt Sy's arms around him as well, helping comfort him. When the tears finally stopped and his heart rate came back down he felt completely drained. They must have been standing there for quite awhile because his legs were aching and going numb. 
The three of them headed back to the house. Mike was so drained he went to lay down for a nap before dinner. Debbie headed to the kitchen and grabbed her pain pills tossing a couple in her mouth then going to the fridge to get some water to rinse them down before bending down to try and grab an ice pack from the freezer. Sy's big hand reached in front of her and got the pack.
“What did the doctor say?”
She told him everything as they went to set on the sofa. It didn't take long between the exhaustion and the meds that she fell into a fitful sleep.
Tag List
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cadybear420 · 1 day
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Cadybear's Reviews- Murder at Homecoming
Welcome to the thirty-seventh official Cadybear's Reviews! Today I'll be talking about Murder at Homecoming, which I have ranked on the "Platinum Tier" at 9 stars out of a possible 10. My last and only playthrough of this was during September-December 2022.
This is definitely one of the better, if not the best release, of 2022, and it’s easily among my personal faves. 
A MC who is proactive and gets shit done, multiple LIs, highly compelling story. How can I not love that? All three of the LIs are amazing characters– and Tyler especially is just precious. I think he’s the first love interest I have ever adored nearly as much as I’ve adored Aiden. I miss when we had male LIs that are just so babygirl. 
The incorporation of mature topics and queer themes was especially excellent. MTFL, take notes! Because THIS is how you write a teen story that talks about queer sexuality and mature behaviors. Besides maybe BiBound I mean BloodBound, this is probably the first book in Choices where each LI has some degree of confirmed sexuality outside of their LI option status for the MC. 
One thing that’s especially notable is how Tyler will talk about how he used to think he was straight if you romance him as a male or enby MC. I normally don’t mind much when LIs in GOC stories are made with the “playersexual” style of writing, but these sort of little changes are a good show of effort and give Tyler more character.
But of course, it’s not without a handful of problems. 
Like COP (1), the story is incredibly linear and none of the clues or choices really affect your story. Sure, they give you a bit of extra background, but that’s about it. 
The only choices that really have any impact are the stuff related to the queer discussions, Tyler’s romance route, and how the options for how your MC can talk about their queer experience can change based on your MC’s gender and romance choices. Which is still highly praiseworthy, don’t get me wrong, but I’d have loved to see some variation in the other elements of the book too.
And as much as I did enjoy this MC and do consider them one of the more refreshing ones, they were also a bit too rigid and pre-set for me at times. I get that some MCs will need to have pre-set details about them, and to some degree that does apply to this MC, but it was a bit much at times. Like, there was especially no need to give them a default first AND last name. I do like the aspect of MC preferring to go by their middle name, but we still could have been allowed to change their first and last names too, to be honest. 
I found it really hard to feel for the loss of Perdita for this reason; the traumatic event backstory didn’t feel as well established, compared to that of ILITW and ACOR MCs. Though to be fair, I do remember there being a handful of premium scenes to see a memory with Perdita, and I do remember skipping all but two of them. 
But even then, I never felt she had quite as much importance as the writers clearly wanted her to have? Outside of being a motivator for MC to solve Gabbie’s case and allowing MC to connect with Donovan better. Maybe my opinion on this might change after I give it a replay, though. 
That being said, I’m actually fine with the story not telling us what really happened to Perdita, as much as I’d have loved a continuation for this book. MC not knowing what happened to Perdita is what motivated them to solve Gabbie’s case, and in that regard, the two cases kind of juxtapose one another. Whereas MC is able to get closure for Gabbie’s case, they don’t do that for Perdita’s case. And that’s fine, because sometimes we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. 
That makes the ending a little more nuanced in my opinion. Sometimes, we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. While I’m still mixed on how well the story integrated Perdita, this message was handled decently and didn’t feel like it was in bad spirit. 
So if there were a continuation for this story, I wouldn’t mind it being centered around MC finding Perdita, motivated to work on that case more actively after their success with Gabbie’s case. But rather than having them solve the case, it can mostly center around them struggling between whether they should keep up that search, or leave it as a cold case and move on. 
Overall, definitely a higher-tier and very respectable story that definitely deserves a replay. 
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I am once again asking people to stop making Dick Grayson a police officer in fics because he “wants to help save people.” You are not immune to Chuck Dixon’s copaganda.
#batfam#batfamily#batman#batman comics#dick grayson#nightwing#what kind of tags do those guys tend to scroll thru? like i dont want to be so annoying as to tag the entire fucking batfamily#but also like. i want this to actually REACH people.#and this is one of the few things that annoys me about batfam fics that isnt just a fanon problem#because people are trying to be accurate to canon#and like. on the one hand i get that! but on the other hand it's so fucking easy to just NOT make him a cop.#you dont have to be 100% accurate to canon. i mean hell! fic writers are almost NEVER 100% accurate to canon.#which makes it all the more telling that for all the things these writers DO change from canon in their fics#they still choose to make dick a cop.#which either means they just dont think about it and what that implies and why you just shouldnt portray cops in a good way! (in which case:#here's your friendly reminder to NOT DO THAT. if you didnt know before now you do.)#OR it means people are doing it on purpose because they agree with the argument that if someone wants to go into a profession where the goal#is to 'save people' then they should be a cop.#which is severe copaganda and fucking false. do not tote that argument around like it's a fucking fact. it's not and it's beyond dangerous#to say it is a fact.#if anyone else has tag recommendations (or thinks its worth it for me to be really annoying and tag all the batfam i can lmfao) please lmk!!#mine#just some thoughts#fandom#dc#dc comics#justice league#dc fandome#dc fanfiction#batfam fanfic
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luckystrike-x · 2 months
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.
#i swear to god i can't hear one more thing about the nuances of the american system#everytime i read about how dystopian the us is it makes me wanna bash my brain against a wall#i wish there was a way to blacklist these “educational” and “informative” posts about how unaccessible healthcare isanother cop is#getting away with murder insulin is not affordable despite only costing 1 simoleons to manufacture or whatever#or how you should still vote for biden or not vote for biden or maybe vote for biden but VOTE never STOP VOTINGcall your rep!!#i simply. can't. fucking. stand. it anymore#i got all this.....american knowledge in me i absolutely never sought it just got chugged down my throat daily#there is this tone like we're all in the know no need to specify whom certain news might possibly be concerning as if there was only#one country on this planet#i'm just here on this website getting splashed by these completely untargeted informations ceaselessly#idk maybe it's such a non problem i just need to curate my tumblr experience better and stop following so many usamericans#but rn i just reached the limit of what i can bare#i can't follow what is going on in palestine whilst still learning new shit about the usa and give it some kind of value#i will not shed a single tear for america literally one of the richest most soulless country#just fix yourself#or don't idc#from now on i'm unfollowing on sight if i see another post about some fucked up american thing it's bye i'm so done
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nenehyuuchiha · 4 months
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When you're feeling down, sad or Feeling Unmotivated, just remember,
At least you didn't born in U.S.A.
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confused-wanderer · 10 months
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It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.
Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.
The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.
No one fucks with Gothamites.
Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*
Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.
Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE
Or
Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*
Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*
Thief: .. what the actual fuck
Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D
Thief:
Dick: I’m from Gotham
Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones
OR
Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*
Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.
Shooter:
Dick:
Shooter:
Dick: .. Hi :)
Shooter: Are you Satan?
AND
In interrogation room
Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection
Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you
Murderer: .. what
Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-
Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you
Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.
Murderer:
Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.
Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.
But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.
Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.
Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven
Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.
Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?
Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!
Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?
Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.
Red Robin: Wait what did he do?
Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.
Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop
Red Hood: Well even I could do that-
Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.
Red robin *growing concerned*
Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!
Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.
*all nodding in agreement*
Red hood:
Red Robin:
Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick
Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.
*villains’ sobbing intensifies*
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jazjelspen · 2 months
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scarlet and silver lining
(alastor w/ daughter reader)
(fem reader/notproofread!/apologies for anything ooc still trying to get used to writing fics again lol/possible part 1 after the epilogue)
[Prologue]
You never truly got along with your 'father', not even in life until the passing of his mother.. your grandmother.
Technically she wasn't exactly your grandmother, and Alastor wasn't your father.. at least not by blood but by adoption papers. Poor Nana, she just wanted a little grandbaby running around the house before her days started getting counted down.
Alastor knowing that he didn't want to go through the trouble of finding a wife nor did he want to deal with the issues that came with that let alone the process to conceive a kid, with a heart full yet a hesitant hand he then signed your papers.. adopted you for the kind old woman at the age of six.
Orphaned by your parents sudden passing, you never truly found out why or how they died. Only thing you knew was that it was sudden, unprovoked, unasked for. They were healthy yet from what you could hear from the cops that took you from your empty home was that there was blood, lots of it.
With no family to take care of poor little you, you got thrown in an orphanage and stayed there hoping to be rescued and loved someday.
Till one day a man with a large smile and clean-cut clothes walked in with a gentle old lady, both talking to one of the adults in charge of the place. Eventually while touring the building they managed to find you hidden in a corner reading a picture book, reading about a baby deer finding his way in the world without his mother, this intrigued the lady and she started to speak to you.
No matter how much the man tried to get the lady to start moving to look at more options she was so stuck to you, your innocent and your little voice attempting to use big words entranced her poor heart and in that moment she just knew you had to be her granddaughter. After she said the word, the adult responsible led them to talk more and sign papers and the rest is history.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
That was all you were willing to think far into when it came to your past, not wanting to remember what once was before falling into Hell.
You died around the 1940s, you followed in your fathers footsteps and created your own radio show before you died and being the daughter of Alastor in life had it's perks when he was famous in your home of New Orleans.
Although, you kept your secret deep in the ground when it came to your connection to Alastor. No way in hell would anyone know he was your adoptive father, you knew it'd only make you an even bigger target.
Especially to Vox, your boss and the demon that owned your soul.
Also the man that hated your father with his guts, but of course he didn't need to know any of that.
Your contract with him allowed you to be on his show, have a segment of it, get the royalties from it and be under his protection and his roof, in exchange you do any job he asks you to do no matter how hard or long it gets.
God did you hate transitioning from radio to TV, you were never fond of those color video boxes.. they lacked personality and were shallow in the content they produced. but hey, you needed to survive in hell somehow so why not just throw your soul to this TV guy to stay safe from the exterminations and other ruthless sinners.
You died around the time when the Radio Demon was barley getting the word out and showing his true power, the day you recognized his voice and heard his name blasted everywhere was when you knew he was worser than you thought, you didn't think he was this much of a sadist in life.. he must've hid it incredibly well from you then.
And you hated him for that.
Hated him for killing innocents, his sadistic tendencies, his power, his smile, his singing and his lies. His lies that he was your kind ol' dad that would do nothing wrong.
God.
But here you were now in present time being forced to be at the Hazbin Hotel by Vox.
Your hand currently leaning over to knock on the door ready to knock. You'd be warned that Alastor was here, and were warn to be more careful with your words and actions considering how badly Sir Pencious messed up before. This time bringing no technology with you but your head, memory, and a few things to sleep a few nights at this establishment. You were told that you would get more royalties and more perks like even getting your own show to rule over completely if you succeeded in this mission.. and god did you need your own place and studio so that Valentino didn't bother you any longer.
Your lips parted to let out a shaky sigh, a sweat bead running down your forehead down to the side of your face.
'c'mon ____, keep it together will ya?..' your thoughts scolded at you,
Your free hand wiped it away before finally knocking on the door of the hotel, hands shaky and your practiced smile of years
The door opening and being met with the princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar.
You could've sworn you felt the red eyes of a certain radio demon stare at you full force behind the princess's back.
Charlie gasped, seemingly more than ever excited to see someone new.
Your lips parted and started to move, you thoughts racing as you could feel more people stare from behind the royal.
You knew you'd regret doing this mission, Alastor being involved in it should've kept you away..
but if there was a chance to either get a solution to fully get away from the V's or to benefit from them if you did all this right, then so be it.
"Hello.. you must be Charlie right.. My name is ______ and I heard you are redeeming sinners? Your highness, I believe in your cause.. please help me relieve myself of my sins."
Your hands went from holding your luggage to clasping together with a face full of worry and a need to get better. Even you were unsure if you meant what you said, but you just knew that you knew what you had to do no matter what.. you would benefit from this somehow.
"Please, let me redeem yourself in your Hazbin Hotel, Princess Morningstar."
(hello readers!! thank you so much for taking a look at this epilogue of a possible new pic series! I actually made this fanfic almost three years ago on quotev but I want to bring it to life in a different fashion and new writing, so I hope you can stick around till the end of this series!!)
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brainrotdotorg · 5 months
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here is my pitch for a mainstream movie trailer for disco elysium because i want you to suffer
Starts with complete darkness.
VO Ancient reptillian brain: “There is nothing… Only an ancient primordial blackness…”
“Radioactive” by imagine dragons starts playing
We see harry appear in this dark void, floating in slo-mo, camera slowly zooms into Harry’s face
VO Ancient Reptillian brain “Your consciousness ferments in it, no larger than a single grain of malt…”
Camera comes to rest on harry’s face, taking up the whole screen
VO Ancient Reptillian brain “No ex-wives are contained in it…”
Wham sound effect, music cuts out
Reaction shot of Harry opening his eyes. “Wait. Ex-wives?”
VO Limbic System: “Time to go to work in the shit factory!”
Sound of Kineema engine starting up that blends into the first lyric of the song
“I’m waking up to ash and dust” plays just as we see Harry open his eyes on the floor, Voice over plays as he looks around the trashed room confused
VO Harry: “Who am I? Why am I here?”
Clip of kim and harry shaking hands
Kim: “We’re detectives. We’re here to solve a murder.”
Harry: “I’m a police officer? I must be a superstar cop!”
“I’m breathing in the chemicals” inhale right as harry snorts some speed
Kim facepalms
Text in the disco elysium font on black screen:
HE’S LOOKING FOR ANSWERS
VO Joyce over a shot of the skyline: “Something is happening in this town, officer.”
VO Harry over numerous quick clips of him failing little things: kicking the mailbox, dropping the barbell, etc: “I’m an alcoholic. I’ve got a bunch of voices in my head. I don’t even know who I am! How do you expect me to solve a murder?”
VO Kim over him writing in his notebook: “I expect you to work, detective. It’s not easy; but thats the job.”
TO A MYSTERY:
Extremely fast montage of action or particularly striking moments synced up to a bunch of edited in bass thumps to the song– harry making the jump to get the coat, swinging to punch measurehead, visual calculus constructing a crime scene in glowing CGI effects, cuno shouting “fuckpig!” harry and kim dancing in the church, Harry reaching out his hand to the phasmid (who is out of frame), dolores dei turning away from the camera, culminating with kim lifting his gun in slow-mo to point at the mercenary
VO KIM: “Never fuck with Kim kitsuragi.”
Music slows and stops entirely
WHAT KIND OF COP IS HE?
Smash cut to a reaction shot of Harry looking in admiration. “How’d you get so cool, Kim?”
Reaction shot of Kim making a smug expression thats cut from a different scene.
Beat drop
THIS SUMMER IS GOING TO BE
Montage of different characters clipped saying the word “disco”
DISCO ELYSIUM
Wham shot, music cuts out. Harry leaned over a countertop about to lick the rum stain. Kim clears his throat.
Harry’s eyes dart to look up at kim. Shot of kim raising the eyebrow.
Slowly, slowly, he moves to lick the stain.
VO Electrochemistry: Aww, yeah.
Kim, sighing and shaking his head: “We’re all doomed.”
RATED PG-13
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rvfecamerons · 6 months
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》 RED & BLUE — rafe cameron x reader
{ main masterlist }
word count — 3.7k
warnings — MDNI; dark!rafe, cop!rafe, aged up!rafe & reader, swearing, smut, oral, mentions of bullying kinda, degradation, humiliation, slapping, slut-shaming, slight voyeurism, lmk if i’m missing anything?? (NOT PROOFREAD BTW BARE W ME)
a/n — rafe and reader are both aged up in this fic!! it takes place a number of years after hs, you can decide how long :) also I HURRIED THRU THIS SO FAST i just wanted to get it done ok and yall know i’m new to smut so i tried to hurry thru it so dont judge pls be nice ty <3 likes are appreciated, reblogs & comments make my whole life worth living pls <3 also these pics have me sooo…..
summary — you get pulled over by the infamous Officer Cameron on your way home one night, and he has his own solution to keeping you out of trouble ;)
Rafe could hardly keep his eyes open. He was on the tail end of his shift, and tired was an understatement.
When he joined the police academy after his dad’s death, Rafe’s only goal was to seize power over the town that ostracized him, authority over those who counted him out, spoke ill of him, pogues and kooks alike. No one was ever fair to him in this washed up town, why should he be fair to them?
And that power he felt when he put on his uniform everyday, consumed him.
His whole life, he’d already felt like he could go anywhere, do anything he wanted. That feeling only amplified when he became a police officer.
…And yet, here he was, stuck on the night shift in all its glory. Citing minor traffic violations, surveillancing random parking lots… nothing like what he’d envisioned.
Though he was much older now, Rafe was still the main subject of the town’s conversations.
The oldest Cameron never married. He didn’t have any kids. And good thing, because rumors were constantly flying around the island about his… corrupt tendencies.
Rafe wasn’t doing anything crazy. No money laundering, no getting high in the evidence lockerroom… No, not that kind of corrupt.
But let’s just say, women didn’t need to worry as much if Officer Cameron was the one greeting them at their window during a traffic stop. They’d heard enough to know Rafe could be easily…persuaded to grant freedom.
A young Rafe never did well around girls. And as years went on, an older Rafe obviously still never learned how to do well with women, either…
But he tried with you. For years. You never missed the way he wasn’t scared to break eye contact if you caught him staring at you in class. Or the way he would always come wandering onto the school track during your cheer practices. He would leave notes on your locker, and somehow even managed to leave a boquet of roses inside of it one time, too.
Rafe Cameron was always known for being a bit…unstable. He was rich, handsome, athletic, but he could never hold a friendship, or a relationship for that matter. Not many people associated with him, unless they were talking about him.
So, when you discovered his desire for you, you were honestly…embarassed. You felt sorry for him, but you wouldn’t be the one to commit social suicide by being seen with him.
And Rafe didn’t forget.
You never paid him the time of day in high school. But he had the upperhand now.
He was posted up at a gas station when he noticed a black car struggling to stay in the lanes as it trekked down the main road. He’d almost missed it for the broken tail light in the back.
One thing he learned from his superiors? Only 2 kinds of people were out at this time of night: drug dealers and cops. He was the cop, so this car must have been the ladder.
Rafe let the car get a reasonable distance before easing out of the lot. He took note of the liscense plate, entering it into the laptop at his side.
There was a spark of interest in his eyes as the search results yielded a name he knew all too well.
Y/N Y/L/N.
“No shit…” he mumbled to himself. What were the odds?
All of the memories from high school came flooding back. How could he forget? Young Rafe had spent many years pining after you in school, but you were just as big of a kook as he was, always thinking you were too good, too smart, too stable for the boy who’s reputation preceeded him.
Your name was followed by another line, listing off an old charge. ‘Posession of a controlled substance, schedule II.’
Fucking kooks and their drug habits, he mentally cursed. As he didn’t also fit the description.
He moused over a small icon, and your mugshot filled the screen. You were barely 18 when you caught the charge, Rafe easily able to identify the familiar features he’d spent countless nights obsessing over senior year, specifically.
His pupils were surely blown as he gawked down at the screen.
Rafe still found beauty in the even, empty look on your face on what was likely one of the worst nights of your teenage life. The way your brows were knitted together, the way you tried to force the corners of your lips to tug upwards, even though you were probably terrified of what came after processing, at that point.
Part of him would enjoy hauling you off to jail, his mind quick to draw up a scenario in his head.
You’d probably beg him to stop as he tightened the cuffs on you, an instrument he loved to use in the bedroom. Using them at work, on attractive women was just a plus.
The thought of such a pretty girl, scared, cold, probably shaking inside of a tiny cell was enticing. Ruining your night, bringing back your expunged record with a felony would be the perfect payback for how bitchy you were to him in high school.
Making you relive another processing, another night in a place you probably vowed never to return to, as most do. He hears it all the time.
But he also sees those same people come thru the station again and again.
So he decided to throw his lights on.
As your brake lights lit up, Rafe brandished a tiny bag of cocaine, examining it in the palm of his hand before tucking it away in his pocket. Collateral, if he felt the need to use it.
At the same time, the red and blue lights had your breath hitching in your throat. You fetched your own small stash from the middle console and shoved it into your front pocket, making the split decision that the officer would hopefully be male, who would probably check the car before you, since you’re a female.
You kept your hands tight on the wheel as you watched the officer near your car in the side mirror, only moving a hand to roll down the window when he tapped on the glass.
“Evening, miss,” the deep voice filled the nervous silence in your car, as did the light he shined around.
The flash in your eyes left you blinded for a second, prompting you to raise a hand to shield your face.
“Hi officer, is there something wrong?” Maybe he hadn’t noticed your swerving.
“Uh, yeah, I was gonna say you were swerving around back there…” He noticed. “but now I’m a little more interested in what I’m smelling.” The flashlight pryed further into the car.
Shit. You mentally cursed yourself. You really wished you hadn’t smoked that blunt in your car on break yesterday.
“You been smoking some weed in here tonight miss?”
You were already shaking your head vigorously before he could even finish his question, “No, no, officer. Not at all.”
His only response was leaning a bit further into the car to inspect more.
A long pause ensued, before, “You mind stepping out real quick f’me?”
Fuck. “You can turn the car off, too.” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Reluctantly, you moved to open the door, greeted by the cool autumn air as your feet planted on the concrete.
It was only when you rose to your feet that you realized exactly who had pulled you over. “Rafe…? Rafe Cameron?”
He responded by swinging your driver door shut.
You couldn’t even believe the way the tables had turned now. You instantly thought of all the times you shut him down, been snappy with him, made jokes with your friends at his expense.
As he towered above you now, you noticed how much bigger he really was than you. His muscles practically threatened to pop the seams of the uniform hugging his biceps.
“Just keep your hands where I can see em’,” His voice pulled you from your fantasy, and you pulled your arms above your head and slowly stepped out of the way.
“We don’t have any females on duty right now, so I’m gonna have to search you. I’ll just check your pockets though,” Shit.
“O-okay…” You waited for your next instruction.
“Go ahead and turn around, face the car.” You slowly did as you were told, though part of you wanted to grab the bag and toss it somewhere.
“Hands up here,” he patted the hood of your car, and you placed your hands where he’d instructed.
You couldn’t see him now, but you could feel his presence towering behind you.
A single foot placed inbetween yours startled you, kicking at your left foot gently, “Spread your legs f’me, miss.”
His words sent chills up your spine. You did as he said, parting your legs against the better interest of the growing uncomfortableness between your thighs.
You fought the urge to clamp them shut again as he began dipping his hands into your jacket pockets first.
Coming up empty, he felt around your back pockets next, before his fingers slithered their way into the one pocket you’d hoped he’d somehow slip over.
“Hmm…” You stared at your feet and tried to keep from shaking at the nervousness you felt.
Rafe’s hands resurfaced, now holding the small bag of cocaine. Wow. Look at that…he didn’t even have to plant his own bag on you, you’d done it for him.
“What’s this, miss?” Your mouth was dry, and you were almost shaking from fear at this point. Even if it wasn’t a significant amount, any amount was still illegal, and it only made it worse that Rafe Cameron was the one to pull you over and find it.
“I-I don’t…” you didn’t even know what to say. “Rafe, that’s not mine, I swear.”
He placed the bag on top of the car. “It’s sir, or Officer Cameron.” He corrected. You swallowed hard, and the next thing you felt was a large hand encompassing one of your wrists, drawling it behind your back.
“No! No, wait, please,” you felt the cold metal locking in place despite your pleas.
“Relax, you’re just being detained right now,” His words didn’t encourage relaxation at all. You’d seen enough bodycam videos on Youtube to know what always comes after ‘being detained’.
“Sir, please,” your voice cracked as you spoke. “I-I’ve never been in trouble before.” You could feel the tears threatening to fall now.
You mentally cursed again as he brought your other hand behind your back, securing it in the metal cuff.
“Fuck…” you muttered, eyes closed as you replayed everything you should’ve done differently tonight.
“Never been in trouble before, hmm?” You dared to lift your head in his direction, peering over your shoulder only to find his eyes raking over your figure. His hands released your now binded ones.
All at once, Rafe took a harsh grip on your hair, forcing you up against the door of the car, his hard chest pressing into your back as he tilted your head up.
“You wanna lie to me again, hmm? I ran your plates. Not surprised to find coke on you.”
The seizing of your hair only heightened the warm sensation between your legs, almost too much to bare as a loud gasp left your mouth.
You pulled at the cuffs, gauging how tight they were. And yeah, they were fucking tight.
You hated to admit it, but the situation at hand was actually… turning you on? Rafe was attractive, you couldn’t lie. You could almost make out the feel of his bulge in his pants, right underneath his utility belt.
“Y’know a little baggie of coke can easily be a misdemeanor…” You could hardly focus on his words with the way his knee was rutting inbetween your legs.
“But two bags? That’s intent to distribute. And that’s…” He leaned into your ear to whisper intently, “that’s a felony if I ever seen one.”
Suddenly you were on the move, being dragged by Rafe’s iron grip on your arms. “Wait, wait where are we going?” You asked.
“You’re going to jail, sweetheart.” He clarified, as if it was obvious. Which, you guessed it should’ve been. You’d thought maybe he would let you off the hook though, especially given all the stories you’d heard about him.
“No! No, please, I-“ you planted your feet on the concrete, trying to stop the inevitable walk of shame to the cop car.
Rafe’s grip tightened on your arm, his second hand jumping down to hold the chain inbetween your cuffs again. “What? You resisting now? Because we can throw another charge on there, I don’t mind-“
“No! Sir, no, I-I’m not resisting. I just…isn’t there something I can… do?” You weren’t even sure what you were getting at with the question, deciding to leave it up to him to determine.
He looked at you with a deepened interest, now. Rafe couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you’d been the one to set his plan into motion, instead of him. He jolted your arm roughly, spinning your body so your shoulder was pressed into his chest, eyes able to see him now.
He chuckled darkly at your question. “Are you trying to bribe an officer?” Fuck, was he not into it? You started to worry you’d dug an even deeper hole of trouble for yourself.
You stood in silence. “Are you asking if you can do something to get out of these?” You winced as he squeezed the cuffs tighter.
You couldn’t speak, too embarassed to. You simply stared up at him.
“You look like you’d slut yourself out to stay outta trouble,” It was only then that you noticed his wild eyes scanning over your body, flushed with a dark lust.
The comment should’ve brought you shame. And you did feel shameful, humiliated, even. But above all else, you felt…aroused.
Rafe brought a large hand up to your shoulder, pushing down with enough force to encourage you to drop to your knees. You did so one at a time, since you didn’t have your hands to help you.
The concrete tore into your skin, but you ignored it, eyes trained on the officer in front of you.
Rafe never took his eyes off of you as his hands made their way to his belt. “Gonna suck my cock? Hmm?” He spoke lowly. You swallowed hard, nodding your head.
A large palm mended over the growing tightness in his pants as he tilted his head menacingly. “Yeah? You gonna whore yourself out to me just to stay outta jail?”
You offered him the sweetest, most innocent look you could muster. Your eyes were already teary from the fear you were feeling, only adding to the show for Rafe. You nodded again.
You were almost taken aback by the sudden sharp, repeated stings left on your cheek. You dropped your jaw at the feeling of his cold rings coming into contact with your skin.
“Speak up,” he ordered. “Use your words.” He was amusing himself, you could tell. Still, you nodded up at him again.
“Y-yes.”
“Yeah? Good girl,” You pinched your thighs together at the praise rolling off of his lips.
His cock sprang to life on his stomach, settling just underneath his bellybutton. You almost drooled at the sight.
He took his length in his hand, pumping slowly at first, eyes never leaving you. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, gliding slowly across your bottom one and eliciting a low grown from Rafe.
“Come here,” he drew you closer by the hair of your head, and you let your jaw fall slack as he lined his cock up with your mouth.
He didn’t bother easing in, letting you work it with your tongue and get it nice and wet first. Rafe simply started with a harsh thrust into your mouth, hips snapping against your face right off the bat.
You choked and sputtered as he drilled into your mouth, a mix of salivia and his salty juices dripping down your chin and coating your thighs as he encouraged you to, “Take it… open up, you can take it all. Mhmm…”
His pants had dropped somewhere between his hips and his knees, the instruments lining it digging into the flesh of your chest as he continued using your face for his own pleasure.
You were too embarassed to stare up at him, only stealing enough glances to know that Rafe had his head tilted back, eyes closed for the majority of your act. He still kept a hand in your hair though, leverage to keep him upright even as his legs threatened to buckle beneath him.
Part of you felt a pang of insecurity, wondering if his lack of eye contact was because you were simply another one of the trashy girls who sucked off the infamous officer for a get-out-of-jail-free card.
Rafe’s eyes were shut for an entirely different reason, though. He was busy revelling the fact that he was finally getting a taste of what he’d pined after for so long. Finally able to make his imaginations, the fantasies he had about you, a reality.
It wasn’t long before he was coming undone in front of you, legs shaking as he finished inside your mouth, pulling out with a pop.
The road was empty. Rafe used his grip on your hair to pull you to your feet, his other hand immediately wrapping around your arm to lead you to his cruiser. He threw the door open, and you fully expected him to usher you inside.
Instead, he used the hold on your cuffed wrists to lift your arms up and effectively bend you over the backseat. He pressed your face into the cloth. As uncomfortable as this new position was, it beat subjecting your knees to the gravel in the road, and you knew this was the price to pay for your freedom. You just hoped he would follow through with his end of the deal when it was all said and done.
But Rafe wasn’t even thinking about what he was going to do after he fucked you. His brain was already short-circuiting at the mere sight of your dripping cunt on display as he bent you over in front of him.
“God, you’re fucking soaked…” He used two fingers to swipe up your folds, gathering some of your sweet juice before bringing it to his tongue.
He groaned around his fingers in his mouth. The way your ass brushed up against his dick perfectly, the way your back arched even in the compromising position, drovr him crazy. He loved your mouth, and couldn’t wait to feel the rest of you.
“Don’t move.” He spoke harshly. You could feel the tip of his cock grazing your slick center, undoubtedly preparing to slide in.
You held your breath, muscles tensing when his head finally broke through your walls. “Relax, relax…” Rafe coaxed behind you, his own breathing labored as he struggled to keep himself together.
He let out a low grunt when he finally managed to slide all the way in, hips snapping into yours harshly.
He kept one hand on your binded wrists while another pressed your face into the seat, hips relentlessly driving into the quick mess he’d made of your core.
“You like that?” You whimpered at his question, your moans making the answer quite obvious. “Yeah? Y’like getting cuffed and fucked by an officer just to stay outta trouble? Hmm?”
The moan that escaped your lips at the embarassing question filled the car. “Yes, Rafe, yes…oh my god,”
Rafe reached around and delivered a swift slap to your face from behind, correcting your use of his name. “What was that?”
“Y-yes, yes sir.” You arched your back more at a particularlly rough thrust, and took the opportunity to peer over your shoulder, eyes drinking in the sight where your two bodies connected.
“Look at me,” Rafe ordered, but your neck could only comfortably crane so far up as he held you down on the seat.
Rafe noticed, and snaked an arm around your throat, bicep pressing into your airway as he lifted you up, lodging even deeper inside of you as you straightened yourself out against him.
“Look at me,” He repeated, breathlessly.
He pulled his arm back, subsequently tilting your head back too. He lowered his lips down to the side of your face, teeth nibbling slightly on your ear as he continued subjecting you to a brutal pace.
You were trying hard to fight the coiling you felt building in your stomach, your walls already clenching slightly around Rafe’s cock. “Gonna cum for me?” It took everything not to unwind at that very question.
“Go ahead baby, come apart on my cock. I’m right behind you,” The intensity at which Rafe pounded into you picked up as he chased his second high, and you neared your first.
Your legs shook as Rafe’s load shot deep into you, his hips continuing to drill into yours, making sure you got every last drop.
When he finally pulled out, he was sweating, panting, hands even shaking as he pulled his pants back up, securing his belt around his waist.
All the while, you’re still bent over the backseat of his car, a mix of both of your juices leaking from your dripping cunt and onto his seat. You were nervous to move, unsure of what would happen next.
You jumped slightly as Rafe pulled you upright again, hands immediately reaching down to release you from the uncomfortable metal bracelets.
“I get off in a couple hours…” Rafe’s voice trailed off as your eyes fell to your red wrists, indents from the tight cuffs still very much present. You mended them over, softly caressing the irritated skin with your hand, moving back and forth between the two.
A sudden, harsh grip on your jaw pulled you from your thoughts. Rafe peered down at you, eyes still full of lust as he warned, “I’ve got your address. Go home and get ready for me.”
Even though Rafe encouraged you to use your words, you still felt like nodding was your safest bet.
He slammed the door of his cruiser, turning to head back to the driver’s seat before he turned back to add, “Oh, and get rid of that weed smell in your car if you’re gonna be driving it.” He taunted.
With that, he disappeared behind the dark tints as quickly as the door slammed shut. He was already speeding off before you’d even mustered a step back towards your car.
Your eyes fell back down to your wrists, then back up at the police car descending into the distance.
Even with the handcuffs removed, the threat of jail no longer looming over your head…you knew you were still in for a long night.
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munson-blurbs · 6 months
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Escaped Convict!Eddie Munson x Innocent!Reader
Summary: a peaceful morning of reading and coffee is interrupted when you stumble upon convicted murderer and prison escapee Eddie Munson, and your kindness towards him does not go unrewarded.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), oral (f! receiving), fingering, corruption kink, 'sir' kink, spitting, biting, mention of blood, mention of assault/murder
WC: 2.6k
A/N: in this fic, "innocent" refers to some sexual inexperience. Eddie and Reader are both in their mid-20s and neither are portrayed as childlike.
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At first, you don’t think anything of the slight rustling noise coming from the trees. It’s been a windy morning, the leaves swaying in the breeze since you’d first sat down at your favorite picnic bench, book in one hand and travel mug full of coffee in the other.
Now, you’re several chapters in, coffee long gone, the air warming as the sun reaches its peak in the sky. It’s almost time for you to head back home and get some lunch, and you begrudgingly tuck a bookmark into your tattered copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.
You hear the noise again; this time, it’s not accompanied with a gust of wind, and it draws your attention to an overgrown shrub in the near distance. Curiosity gets the best of you as you peer over it, but nothing could have prepared you for what you find.
One hand shoots out from behind the bush, yanking your wrist and pulling you down. Your jean-clad knees scrape against the cold ground, grass stains seeping into the fabric. A terrified squeal remains trapped in your throat, but you’ve gone completely silent in horror. Before you can process what’s happening, you feel a palm against your mouth.
“Don’t move,” a voice growls, low and slow against the shell of your ear. You keep your eyes staring straight ahead, unwilling to make contact with your captor. “You work with the cops? Hmm?” When you shake your head, his grip loosens slightly. Maybe it’s also because he can feel you trembling within his grasp, not even contemplating fighting back. “If I let you go, you promise you won’t tell a soul?”
You nod against his hand, taking a gasping breath when he hesitantly breaks contact, still unsure about trusting you. You try to scramble to your feet, but your body betrays you; every bone is gelatinous. Falling back with a pathetic whine, the adrenaline fades and the emotions it had been staving off comes flooding in. Tears fall from your eyes, hot as they slide down your cheeks in heaving sobs. The man swears under his breath, evidently distressed that you’ll give away his hiding spot with your crying.
“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry,” you apologize weakly, wiping at your face haphazardly and trying once again to stand. You’re successful this time, but before you can run away, you get a glimpse of him. 
He’s absolutely filthy; a mixture of blood and dirt covers his hands and bare feet. A formerly starch-white undershirt is caked in the same grime, bright orange jumpsuit tied around his waist. His hair is matted in several places, though you can see a semblance of curls amongst the knots. And the expression on his face is not one of anger or violence, but of fear. The same fear that wraps around you like a boa constrictor, squeezing and choking until there’s nothing left to feel.
It’s his eyes, the deep brown windows to his soul, that give away his identity. And though his current get-up is a stark contrast from the ill-fitted suit he’d worn to his televised court appearances, you know who he is.
Eddie Munson: murderer, prisoner, and now, escapee.
Your own eyes widen, and you take a staggering step back. You’d seen on the news that he’d broken out of Indiana State prison three days ago, but you’d never imagined that you would be the one to find him.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” he snarls, snapping you from your stupor. “Just go!” He scoffs disbelievingly, not understanding why you haven’t taken off bolting back through the forest.
To be honest, you’re also unsure why you remain in place. You’d followed Eddie’s case since the moment it had first broken: a man leaving a bar in the strange hours that are past the night but not quite morning, plans of trekking home derailed by the sound of a woman’s frantic scream. Without thinking, Eddie ran towards it, fingers digging into a man’s throat to pull him off of her. He could have stopped there, the jury argued; he should have stopped there, but he didn’t. His fist connected with the offender’s cheek, delivering one punch after the other until his own fists were battered and bloodied. 
Eddie might have been hailed a hero if the perpetrator hadn’t been Jason Carver: All-American basketball player, a senator’s son, and most importantly, a man whose family had access to the best lawyers money could buy. The court overlooked Eddie’s act of courage in favor of the murder he’d committed and sentenced him to twenty years behind bars.
Was he innocent? Technically, no. But he also wasn’t the cold-blooded killer the media portrayed him to be.
You extend your hand, wincing at the way it shakes in front of you. “Let me help you, Eddie.” He flinches at his name, pulling back from you. “I…I can hide you, if you want.”
“Wh…what?” There’s no way he heard you correctly. You, the young woman in the soft sweater and frightened but kind eyes, just willingly offered to harbor a fugitive? “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says gently, pinning his hopes on you recognizing his authenticity, “you don’t have to do anything for me.”
“I know.” You keep your hand out, biting your lower lip with so much force that you could draw blood. “I want to.”
With a plethora of reservations, he accepts your proposal as you discreetly lead him to your car. You naively expect him to sit next to you, but he opts to lay down in the backseat where nosy drivers are less likely to spot him. He pulls his knees to his chest, hugging them tight to shrink himself even further. 
“If we get caught,” he whispers as you turn the key in the ignition, “tell them I made you do this, okay? Promise me.”
“Y-Yes. I promise.”
At your apartment, you point Eddie in the direction of the shower while you start on lunch. There isn’t much to choose from, but you crack open a can of Campbell’s tomato soup and make three grilled cheese sandwiches: two for him, one for you. You pour the soup into two bowls just as you hear the water turn off.
“Um, Sweetheart?” The nickname sets off a flurry of butterflies in your abdomen. “Do you have anything for me to wear?” He steps out of the bathroom, just a towel slung low on his waist. Droplets fall from his hair down his chest, blurring the lines of his tattoos. A dusting of brown hair trails from his navel and disappears below the towel. “I could put my own stuff back on, I guess, if you don’t.”
You will yourself to look away from the living, breathing artwork standing before you. “Y-Yeah, give me a sec.” Your arm grazes his torso as you walk past him towards your room, goosebumps appearing on your skin, and not just from the cooling water. Digging through your drawers, you manage to find a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt that your ex-boyfriend had left behind, never bothering to return to collect it. “Here,” you say; he doesn’t question why you have men’s clothes at the ready, just takes them gratefully and pads back into the bathroom to change.
You’re left breathless again when he walks out again, fully clothed. His biceps strain against the cotton material, filling it out better than your ex ever could. And his lack of underwear is evident, the outline just visible through his sweats. 
He’s gorgeous.
Eddie devours the food like it’s a delicacy, rather than canned soup and some Kraft slices on Wonder Bread. Perhaps, after years in prison and an undisclosed amount of days on the run, it is. He brushes the crumbs from his hands into his empty bowl and leans back with a small stretch. “Thank you,” he mumbles with a small smile, leaning over to take your own used utensils. “I’ll wash these. ‘S the least I can do.”
You nod, not wanting to protest and risk making him feel like he’s a burden. “How long can you stay?” you ask softly, nervously picking at your fingernails. “I mean, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need, but I know you probably shouldn’t stick around in one place for long…” You feel silly saying it, like you have any idea of what the protocol is for running away from prison.
“Not long,” Eddie admits, wiping the sponge over a spoon before rinsing it and placing it in the dishrack. “Probably should head back out as soon as it gets dark again. But, really, I can’t thank you enough. The warm shower, the food, the clean clothes…just wish I could repay you somehow.”
You don’t miss the way his eyes flick across your body, soaking in the sight of you. The ache between your legs pulses now, desperate for him to fill the space. You’ve only ever slept with people you’ve been in relationships with; certainly never with escaped convicts who you’d found hiding in the woods.
“What…what did you have in mind?” Your voice is small, barely above a whisper as you stand up and walk towards him. 
“Don’t…don’t do this,” he hisses, raking his fingers through his hair. “Please. It’s been fuckin’ forever, I can’t…” He bites the inside of his cheek and shakes his head. “I haven’t touched someone like I want to touch you in so fucking long, sweet girl.”
“You want to touch me?” You’re shocked at his candor, the way he readily confesses his needs. “W-Where?”
Eddie exhales, gliding his forefinger down your cheek. “Everywhere. I can’t get enough of you. Pretty little bookworm just begging to be corrupted, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you squeak, letting your palm fall to his bicep.
“Need to hear you say it,” Eddie urges, for your sake and his. His breath tickles below your ear. “Say it for me, sweet girl.”
“Corrupt me, Eddie.”
His hands are on you in an instant, pinning you against the countertop. Your lips find each other with the force of magnets, a clashing of teeth and tongues more fervent than you’ve ever experienced. He hoists you on top of it, tugging on your jeans and panties until they’re on the ground.
“‘M gonna taste you. See if you’re as sweet as you look,” he murmurs, crouching so he’s got a perfect view of your glistening folds. Broad arms wrap around your thighs to pull you close and he dives in, nose nudging your clit as his tongue broaches your hole. Your toes instinctively curl, back arching as he feeds off of your pleasure and gradually quickens his pace. One thick finger slides inside you, making you moan. “Goddamn, even your sounds are sweet.” He continues licking and sucking, adding another finger as you get wetter. “‘M sorry, I wanna keep eating you out, but I gotta…” His lips latch onto one nipple, giving it the tiniest bite that draws a whimper from you.
You’re surprised to find that you’re enjoying the pinch of pain, lacing your fingers through his curls and holding his face to your chest. You allow your senses to be overwhelmed, drowning them in the sensation of his mouth on your upper body and his fingers within you.
You rock yourself into him, desperately chasing the release that he’s inching you towards. It allows him even deeper, impossibly so, and you tighten around him.
Eddie lets go of your breast, focusing all of his attention on your pussy. His fingers plunge in and out as he looks deep into your eyes, not daring to break any contact. “Thassit, sweet girl,” he says in a cross between a hiss and a coo, “come f’me.”
And you do, relinquishing whatever semblance of control you’d tried to hold on to. You soak his fingers with a cry of his name. There’s no mistaking the proud grin that sweeps over his face, knowing that he was the one bringing you this pleasure. “You’re ready for my cock now, aren’t you?” He laughs when you nod, helping you off of the countertop. He tugs his pants down, exposing his hard length. He’s big, already leaking pre-cum, and you’re salivating at the anticipation of him stretching you delectably. “Bend over for me, honey. You’re gonna take it from behind today.” 
“Yes, sir.” You turn around, bracing your forearms on the Formica while he delivers a harsh slap to your ass.
“Fuck, say that again.”
“Yes, sir. Whatever you want, sir.” 
He groans, throwing his head back as he runs his tip along your folds. “Such a good girl, knowing her place. Gonna take whatever I give you, s’fucking good for me.” He pushes inside you, little by little until he bottoms out. “So warm, so wet, holy shit.” Calloused palms grip your hips as he thrusts into you. “Take it, sweet girl. Mmm, jus’ like that.” Each snap of his hips is punctuated with a wanton groan. “I’ve barely fucked you and you’re already cock drunk. No one ever fucked you this good, huh?”
“N-No, never. Only you, Eddie.”
You feel your chin being pulled so your head faces sideways, his thumb ghosting over your kiss-swollen lips. “Open wide, pretty little thing.” You do as he orders, his saliva coating your tongue as he spits into your mouth. “Mine,” he declares possessively, eyes widening as you swallow what he’s given you without even being asked. 
He pushes down on your back, your breasts pressed against the counter while he thrusts faster and faster, no longer concerned about holding back. “‘M gonna come on your ass.” He squeezes there, turning himself on further just having your supple skin in his grasp.
And because you know how wild it drives him, you consent with a, “yes, sir.”
Eddie pulls out just in time, his hot spend spilling out of him and onto your flesh. You wish you could see the way he’s adorned you, but you’ll have to settle for the feeling of him dripping down your curves. He stands behind you, panting heavily, holding his softening cock in one hand. 
“God fuckin’ damn, sweet girl,” he mutters, reaching over you to grab a paper towel. It’s scratchy as he cleans you up, then takes another and wipes the residual cum from his tip. “You really are perfect.”
You face him and gingerly kiss his lips, probably too intimate for the utter filth you’d just engaged in. Still, he returns it, hands roaming your body with intent but no real destination. 
“Mind if we get some rest?” he asks, poorly stifling a yawn. “You, uh, kinda wore me out just now.”
You lead him to your bedroom, both of you climbing under the covers wordlessly, heads barely hitting the pillow before you’re each sound asleep.
When you wake up hours later, you’re alone in the dark. At first, you wonder if it’s all been a dream, but when you click on your bedside lamp, there’s a handwritten note hastily scrawled on some scrap paper:
My sweet girl,
I had to go and didn’t want to wake you. I knew that if I did, you’d convince me to stay longer, and I can’t put you in any more danger than I already have.
I hope that fate will allow us to meet again, maybe if I’m ever truly a free man. ’ll be thinking of you until then.
Yours, 
Eddie
P.S. burn this note and flush the ashes after reading
You do as he asked, heart sinking as the flames swallow his words. Maybe he’s written the same ones to dozens of different lovers, or maybe you’re the only recipient. It doesn’t matter anymore. All that fills your memory is the way he felt inside you earlier today. 
You will it to live there forever.
--
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luveline · 5 months
Note
Girl pls pls write stripper reader and Spencer where she thinks he would never date her bc she’s a stripper and just a sprinkle of angst with lots of comforting fluff and Spencer reassuring
thank u for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.5k
cw mentioned past domestic/workplace abuse, unhealthy eating habits
Someone broke into my apartment. 9:14AM
Spencer reads the message under the table but forgoes discretion when he registers what it says and who it's from. He excuses himself from the round table, something he isn't even sure he's allowed to do, and hurries out onto the landing. 
You answer on the second dial. "Hey, did you see my text?" you ask. 
"Are you okay?" He squeezes his phone. 
"I'm not sure. I'm fine, but my lock is busted and the door won't stay shut." 
"Where are you?" 
If you're surprised that he's steamrolling, you don't show it. Spencer leaves work to meet you at the coffee shop you've chosen for refuge, your eyes tired, a small bag of your most important possessions hanging on a slumped shoulder. He hugs you straight away. 
"I'm fine," you say into his neck. 
He hugs you tighter. "That's good," he says, feeling useless, fingers stroking little paths into your shoulders. He pictured the worst from your text, and seeing you in person is the only true mitigator. You'll talk down bruises and black eyes —you have in the past. 
He pulls the story from you as you walk back to his apartment, shoulder to shoulder in the cold street. "It was open when I got home, the door, but I did what you asked me to." 
"You didn't go in?" he confirms proudly. 
"Not at first." 
"You really won't call the police?" 
"I texted you." 
Spencer takes the strap of your bag from you and throws it over his own. "I'm not that kind of cop. I'm not really a cop at all." 
"No, you're a fed, which is worse. The girls at work told me to stay away from you." You wipe under your eyes sluggishly. Sleep clings to you like a shadow trailing behind you, ever-present. 
He puts his hand behind your back, worried you'll fall up the steps to his apartment building. "They think I'll what, extort you?" 
You shake your head, something sad in the slow side to side. "Girls like me have no business around guys like you." 
"You probably get too much business from guys like me." 
You laugh, but you both know it's not what you meant. Spencers noticed it more and more lately, nothing so obvious until now, this dead set belief you hold that he's one type of person and you're another. He gets that your work isn't what you wanted for yourself when you were growing up. He knows it isn't easy, even on your 'good' nights. It takes a toll to be seen as you are, nothing left private. But you've always said you liked stripping as much as anyone should like their job. "It's a job," you'd said, having barely known him, tired and hungry, curled up on his couch with nowhere else to go. "Only the luckiest get to really enjoy work. S'why it's called work." 
He'd hoped, perhaps in a self-absorbed way, that  having more support might make you feel better about yourself; he wanted his friendship to give you some confidence, basically. Before you met Spencer there was no one else you could depend on. It's why you stayed working for a man who broke your wrist until Spencer weaselled his way into your life and made you a bed in his living room for the time it took to get you out. His credentials helped, of course, but you survived it because you're resilient. You're awesome. You've done everything you can with what you have and you don't think it's enough. 
You and Spencer take the elevator to his floor, and for the twenty seconds it takes to get there, you let your cheek rest on his shoulder. He's just about to drop his head on top of yours when the doors open, and the slice of quiet you'd both savoured slips like sand between his fingers. 
"I can go back and get some of your stuff," he offers, guiding you the short walk to his door. He passes you the key rather than struggle with the lock himself. 
Your hand shakes as you push down the handle. "There's nothing worth going back for." 
"Don't say that, you have all your clothes there, your couch. You have things. I'll take my car." 
"You hate driving." 
"I'd hate someone robbing you even more." 
"Robbing me again," you correct, holding the door for him. 
You didn't have anything worth the trouble, it seems. You keep your savings in a locked box hidden in the bathroom that they couldn't find, and though your apartment is clean and bigger than the one you lived in before Spencer met you, it's mostly empty. You don't have a TV, you're not a collector. They took the radio off of the refrigerator, your microwave oven, and a box of cosmetic jewellery worth chapel change. 
"But it's your stuff. You deserve to have stuff." Spencer drops your bag gently and his with less care by the door. 
"It's only until the locksmith can come tomorrow," you say with a yawn. "Let the junkies lavish in my stuff for the next twenty hours." 
"That's not a problem for you?" 
"I don't have the luxury of that being a problem for me, Spence. What am I supposed to do? The locksmith can't come–" 
"There are a hundred locksmiths." 
"Not that I can afford." You shrug out of your jacket. "Spence, listen to me. It's okay. I can't ask you to do that, anyways. You've done more than enough for me already," you say, sitting on the couch. You perch for a moment like you're trying to be polite until fatigue overtakes you, and you sink into the cushions with a relieved sigh. 
Spencer crosses the space between you and kneels by your feet to untie your shoelaces. 
"Don't do that," you mumble, hand over your mouth as a second yawn in as many minutes catches you. 
"Why not?" He slips your shoes off, letting his hand rest on your ankle. "Wanna watch that weird cooking show–" 
"Why aren't you at work?" 
He climbs onto the couch next to you, unafraid to sit shoulder to shoulder. "You were having an emergency." 
You rub your face with both hand. "I knew I shouldn't have called you. You can't just leave work because of me, Spencer, what if you get in trouble?" 
"Someone I care about needed my help, and Hotch understands that." Spencer puts on his big boy pants with a wince. "Do you get that?" 
"I don't really… I don't…" You falter. "We're never going to work. You'll never…" 
"I'll never what?" he asks insistently, voice lilting up with a little incredulity. He can't help it.
You refuse to answer, turning your face from his. 
Spencer knows what you're going to say. He's bad with girls but he's good at recognising human emotion; he sees the same insecurity in himself as he does in you. He knows the feeling. 
You're not right, is the thing. 
Spencer would kiss you if he thought that would change your mind. But tired as you are, angry with yourself, defeated, he knows it's not a good idea. He takes your hand instead, sewing your fingers together with a deliberate slowness. He brings his other hand to them and strokes the back of your index finger with his thumb, careful not to disrupt your press on nails. He knows they have a tendency to come off with too much pressure, and you're always losing your glue. 
"If they really need me to go, they'll call me. But I'm staying here." His thumb moves down to your knuckle. You have little calluses and cuts and bruises everywhere from dancing. He's seen the contusions that line your thighs on a semi permanent basis. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"
"Spencer," you murmur. 
"Let me take care of you, please," he says, hand curling around your wrist with extreme gentleness. "You need to eat. You need to sleep. Let me worry about everything else for once, I want to." 
You still don't look at him, but you sink down an inch at a time until your cheek is on his shoulder again, like it had been in the elevator. Hesitant, you wrap your arm around his stomach. 
"I'm so stupid," you say. 
He wonders if that's a placeholder for what you really want to say. You think so little of yourself sometimes, but it's like you've told him before. Not everyone has the luxury of enjoying their job. 
"You're amazing." Spencer feels like he's on fire everywhere that your skin touches him. Is he saying the right things? "You are. You're the only person who doesn't see that." 
"The only person here, maybe." 
"You should always be here, then. With me. That way I can remind you." 
You sound more like yourself when you answer, though tiredness lines every word, "Thank you, Spencer. I don't deserve you." 
"Yes, you do."
Spencer rubs your hand until you fall asleep, and then he buys you a new toaster oven on his phone, and an industrial security lock. He doesn't know what it'll take to convince you that you deserve him, you deserve better, but he's gonna try. 
He presses his cheek to your temple and focuses on the softness of your skin where it touches his.  
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queen-of-the-avengers · 5 months
Text
Not Allowed
Pairing: Cop!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: bad date angst, jealous bucky
Summary: You and Bucky always flirt with each other while at work but it never goes anywhere like you'd hope. You accept a date with another man, causing Bucky to be jealous. He's a cop who is jealous. Nothing will go wrong, right?
Squares Filled: kink: pet names (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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You walk through the double doors with a smile on your face because today is another day. You’re alive and that’s the best kind of day. You work for the local police department as their receptionist. You’re the first thing people see when they come in so you have to be on your best behavior.
You set your things down on your desk and quickly get settled in. Besides the Captain, you’re the first one in the building. Every officer that comes in, you greet them with a smile as you log into your computer.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Officer Wilson says when he comes in. He always calls you that since he's often told you how he thinks of you like a little sister. “How was your weekend?”
“Too short,” you chuckle. “Did Sarah get into that college?”
“Yeah, she got the acceptance letter yesterday.”
“Oh, I’m so happy for her!” you grin.
“Yeah, I’ll tell her to give you a call.”
Sam taps your desk twice and leaves to go to his own. A few more officers come in until the one you’ve been waiting for walks in confidently. Your heart starts to race because you have a huge crush on him. He kind of knows it but doesn't outright call you out on it.
“There she is,” Bucky smiles and leans on your desk.
“Officer Barnes, it’s good to see you.”
“Doll, you know you can call me Bucky.”
He knows exactly what those pet names do to you. After a night of drinking together, you let it slip that your kink is pet names, and doll happened to be your favorite. Like him, you won’t call him out on it.
“I know. How was your weekend?”
“Better if you were there with me,” he flirts.
“Oh, Bucky,” you chuckle nervously. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah, I do. I was wishing, ‘Man, don’t I wish Y/N was here with me? I guess I have to drink alone’.”
“You know what alcohol does to me.”
“Yeah, I do,” he smirks. “You look cute today. That dress compliments you.”
“A compliment. I might swoon,” you joke even though your cheeks are hot.
“As long as it’s in my arms, I don’t care.”
“Don’t you have a job to get to, Officer Barnes?”
“Yeah, but I’d rather stay here and talk to you.”
“You might get fired.”
“It’s worth it,” he winks. “Here’s your coffee.”
He sets your favorite coffee order next to your keyboard and walks away. That’s the extent of your relationship with Bucky. You two flirt constantly but nothing ever comes of it. It’s comfortable. Why leave something when you’re comfortable being there? Do you wish you were something more? Of course. Do you think he’s going to man up and take it to that next level? Not unless something threatening happened like him realizing if he doesn’t do it soon, he’d lose you.
Some of what your work includes is printing off documents for the other officers, inputting things into evidence before they get shipped off there, and sorting through the files regarding the people they have locked up in the holding cells or interrogation rooms. You already have a list of things to print out and file, but you look for Bucky’s name first.
After printing off what he needs, you get up and personally hand this to him. There is a mailbox for the officers that you’re supposed to put in, but you like visiting his desk. He has a picture of you and him printed out and placed next to his computer that you look at every time you visit.
“Here are the papers you asked for,” you smile.
“Thanks, doll,” he grins and grabs them from you, intentionally brushing his fingers against yours.
You go back to your desk to finish your work, and you come across two people who need stuff put into evidence. One of them sent it over a couple of hours ago, and the other one is from Bucky. You immediately click on his name to get what he needs first before looking at the other one.
“Now that is bullshit,” you hear from behind you.
You jump and turn to see Sam standing there with a half-smile on his face.
“What are you doing? You scared me!”
“I sent you evidence hours ago and Bucky sent you it just now, and he’s the one you pick first?”
“I--”
You don’t have any words for that.
“When are you two gonna fuck?”
“Sam Wilson!” you gasp.
“What? It’s a valid question. I should ask him that.”
“Don’t you dare!”
“I’m rooting for you two no matter how painful the slow burn is,” he chuckles and walks away.
It takes half an hour to get the idea of you and Bucky fucking for you to do your job right. Once you’re in the groove of things, the door opens and an attractive man walks in.
“Can I help you?” you ask with a smile.
“Yeah, I’m here for my brother. He’s in lock up.”
“Okay, what’s his name and date of birth?”
“James Farley. 04/05/1986.”
“Your name?”
“Brandon Farley.”
“Okay, I see your brother here. It looks like--”
“I’m sorry, but I have to tell you how beautiful you are.”
“Oh, thank you,” you blush.
“Are you seeing anyone?”
“No, but--”
“Great. Can I take you out?”
“You can see how this is inappropriate, right?”
“Yeah, but you like it,” he grins. “So, can I take you out?”
There’s a certain charm about him that you find endearing maybe because he reminds you of Bucky. Being put on the spot like that is enough to make you freeze up, so you say the one thing that won’t cause conflict.
“Yes.”
“Here’s my number.”
He grabs your hand and writes his number on it so that it won’t come off with one scrub.
“I have sticky notes!”
“This is better. Now you won’t lose it.”
“Go take a seat. Someone will be with you shortly to bring you to your brother.”
“Thanks,” he winks and walks to the waiting room.
You’re about to get up and wash off the number when you notice Bucky standing in the doorway that leads into the precinct.
“Did I hear that right?”
“What?”
“You have a date?”
“Yeah, he asked me out,” you stutter. Bucky looks pissed as if you just told him you killed someone. “Why do you look angry?”
“Nothing. No reason.”
Bucky walks off angrily leaving you confused. He avoids you like the plague for the rest of the day. He isn’t at his desk when you drop off paperwork, and he’s not there to walk you to your car when you get off. He’s supposed to get off an hour before you do, but he stays after not on the clock to make sure you get to your car safely.
This time, he didn’t.
The next day, Bucky is already at work when you arrive. There is no coffee on your desk, either, and you’re feeling guilty for accepting a date with someone else. Is that why he’s acting this way? Sam walks in drinking an energy drink when you stop him.
“Hey, what’s going on with Bucky?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, what did I do?”
“You accepted a date from someone else.”
You knew it. Why is he bigging out?
“So?”
“Have you not been here for the past two years? You two flirt like crazy.”
“No, he’s just being friendly.”
“You won’t get it until you do,” Sam shakes his head and walks off.
The date with Brandon comes sooner than you hoped. He picks you up in a fancy car and takes you to a fancy restaurant that you could never afford. He smooth-talks the hostess to get him a table by the window so he can have a view while he eats. The waitress brings by a drinks menu but he already orders what you two are going to drink.
“Trust me, you’re going to love this,” he winks at you.
“Okay,” you say and fiddle with your fingers underneath the table. “You know what I do for work. What do you do for work?”
You shouldn’t have asked him that.
“I work in the telecommunications sector. You know that big building in the city? That’s mine. It’s funny. I got all my parents’ money when they died and instead of using that money for myself, I decided to invest in a small company that turned out to give me millions.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues talking. “Can you imagine that? This small company that wasn’t going to go anywhere if it weren't for me. I’m like their hero. They eventually sold their part to me, and I’ve been thriving ever since.”
Once he got to talking about his job, he hasn’t shut up about it since. He’s very arrogant and rude but that doesn’t seem to stop him. As soon as the drinks come, you greedily take yours and down it without caring what it is.
“Whoa, doll, calm down. I don’t need to haul you to the car at the end of the night. You should pace yourself.”
No one can call me that but Bucky. Oh, Bucky. You shouldn’t have said yes to this man. He only asked you out to hear himself talk. You want this date to end so you pretend to be interested in what he has to say. Even when the date is over and he’s driving you home, he won’t shut up. His voice mixed with alcohol is starting to make your head throb.
About halfway to your house, you see red and blue lights behind you.
This better not be him, you think to yourself. Brandon pulls the car over obediently and waits for the officer to approach him. You look through the mirror to see the outline of the officer and recognize it immediately. He better not. I swear to God… Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, Bucky walks over to your door and leans down so only you can see him.
“Step out of the vehicle, please.”
“No.”
Bucky takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He leans in so close that you can smell his delicious cologne. That makes your head spin.
“I’ll repeat myself. Step out of the car.”
“Or what? You’re gonna drag me out?”
“Don’t tempt me, doll,” he says so only you can hear it.
“Is there a problem, Officer?” Brandon asks.
“Yes. You have a busted taillight.”
“Fuck! You’ve got to be joking, sir.”
“No, sir, I’m not.”
“Shit. Officer, I can promise you I keep this car in the utmost pristine condition.”
“Not today, buddy. That’s a ticket.”
Bucky takes out his pad and writes Brandon a hefty ticket for a broken taillight you’re not sure is even broken.
“Fuck!” Brandon turns to you without guilt on his face. “Look, do you mind if I drop you off right here? Your house is only down the road. You can get there from here, right?”
Your mouth drops open in shock.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Bucky offers.
“Thank you. I’ll call you.”
You don’t say anything as you get out of the car. Bucky walks you to the passenger side of his cruiser. You look at the taillights of Brandon’s car and notice they’re both working properly.
“What the fuck, Bucky?” you yell when he gets in the driver’s seat. “His taillights are broken! You can’t just do that. That’s illegal!”
“He’ll fight against it, and I’ll drop the charges,” he shrugs.
“You’re un-fucking-believable. We were actually having a good time,” you lie.
“No, you weren't,” he laughs.
“How do you know that?”
“It’s written all over your face. Your eyes don’t have the usual light.” Bucky pulls onto the road and heads in the direction of your house. “I don’t know why you would accept the date in the first place.”
“Because at least he had the fucking balls to ask me.”
That puts the entire car ride into a tense silence. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride home. He pulls up to your place but instead of letting you get out first, he gets out and walks over to your side of the car. He opens the door but doesn't let you leave the car. He leans into the car, grabs your chin, and kisses you. You’re shocked but you won’t pull away from him. Both your lips move in harmony against one another, and he slides his tongue into your mouth to show you he means business.
“You’re not allowed to see other men.”
“Why not?” you ask, breathlessly.
“Because you’re mine now and I’m not gonna let you go.” This brings a smile to your face. He lets you get out, and when you pass by him, he taps your ass lightly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doll.”
Yes, you will.
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sluts4matt · 9 days
Note
y/n cops an attitude with Chris while they argue so chris bends her over the table and fucks it out of her by overstimulating her? idk. just an idea.
ATTITUDE ADJUSTMENT
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pairing: rough!dom chris x latina!reader
summary: chris had been a bit jealous of yours and matt's relationship lately, the two of you seeming closer than before. this irritates you however, and you're not afraid to voice it.
warnings: SMUT, pet names, slight praising if you squint, degradation, spanking, hair pulling, slight dumbification (sorry not sorry)
word count: 1207
author's note: boys being jealous of another guy and fucking you so good as a reminder that you're only theirs will never NOT be attractive to me. (if you saw this poll this was originally called attitude problem 🤪)
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"are you serious right now?" you ask walking into the kitchen. chris is sitting on a stool by the counter, a can of pepsi in front of him while he scrolls through his phone.
chris looks up at you, a neutral look in his eyes. "what?" he mumbles as if he didn't hear you.
"are you seriously jealous of my friendship with matt?" you ask, annoyance rising in your tone. he scoffs, "when did i ever say this?" he asks.
you walk closer to him, crossing your arms. "you don't need to say it for me to see how fucking obvious it is," you groan, "i mean shit, kids your fucking brother and the only thing i hear anymore when i'm around is snide remarks and comments that don't actually need to be said."
the look on chris' face irritates you even more, "its the fucking passive aggressiveness towards him for absolutely no reason."
"he's not the one dating you," chris snaps, "he shouldn't have your twenty-four-fucking-seven attention," he states, "but guess what? he fucking does," his voice growing louder.
"and you wanna know why?" he asks rhetorically, standing up, towering over you. "because he's the perfect gentleman. he's fucking nice to you, and kind to you, and does all this stupid little shit that he knows you fucking like."
you kept your mouth shut, craning your neck to look up at him. "if you like him so fucking much," he states, "why don't you go fuck him instead?"
he was trying to piss you off, and it was working. you felt yourself get annoyed. "maybe i will since my actual boyfriends being a little bitch," you snap.
it took a minute for chris to respond, the look in his eyes showing anger. he was pissed, and you didn't know whether to feel satisfied or afraid.
he leans closer to you, and your back presses against the table, the corner digging into your skin. you didn't move, staring back at him with a similar glare.
"you wanna run that by me again, sweetheart?" he asks, his hands going to the edge of the counter, trapping you between his arms.
"maybe i will since my actual boyfriend being a little bitch," you repeat. the look on his face darkens and before you knew it, he flipped you around, bending you over the table. his hand lands down on your ass, hard. a whine escaping your lips at the sensation.
"is that a fucking attitude i'm hearing?" he growls, leaning down to your ear, "because if so, i think it's time someone gives you an attitude adjustment."
you whimper, feeling his crotch press against your ass. his fingers grip your hair, yanking your head back, "you know, maybe i should call matt in here, since you love him so fucking much."
you didn't respond, feeling his other hand slip underneath your skirt, pulling your panties aside. he was pissed, and the way his fingers rubbed at your cunt were proof of that.
"chris-" you start, only for him to cut you off. "shut up," he growls, unbuckling his belt. you felt his hard cock pressing against your pussy, "if i'm not getting my girl, no one else is," he states, the tip of his cock teasing your hole. "'specially not fucking matt," he growled.
he slams into you without warning, and you scream, not expecting it. "fuck!" you yell, feeling him immediately start to pound into you. the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.
"yeah, i forgot to tell you, baby," he grunts, one of his hands holding your hips, while the other gripped your hair, "i'm gonna make you forget everyone's name but mine."
you felt tears pool in your eyes, his fingers tugging at your hair, and the feeling of his cock repeatedly ramming into your tight cunt making you cry out in pleasure. "who's your fucking boyfriend, huh?" he asks, the hand holding your hip moving to your ass, landing a harsh slap. "you," you pant, "it's you, chris," you cry, your orgasm nearing.
"damn fucking right," he grunts, his cock thrusting into you with reckless abandon, "and what's matt?" he asks, spanking your ass again. "n-nothing," you stutter.
"that's fucking right, baby," he states, his hand letting go of your hair and slipping between the table and your body, rubbing at your clit. "shit," you curse, a sob escaping your lips, "i-i'm close," you whine.
"then cum slut," he states, the coil in your stomach snapping as your release takes over. "oh, fuck!" you scream, chris' thrusts never slowing.
"we're not fucking done, sweetheart," he states, continuing to slam his hips against yours. "fuck, chris, its s-sensitive," you whine. "shoulda thought about that before saying you'd fuck matt," he grunts, grabbing at your wrist with his large hand, holding them in place behind your back.
your eyes roll to the back of your head, his cock slamming into your g-spot over and over again. the sound of skin against skin, and your moans filled the room. "fuck, fuck," you moan, "please, chris, please," you beg, not sure what you're asking for.
his hips slam into you with a newfound aggression, chasing his own high. "i'm close," he groans, his hand making your hair a makeshift pony tail, just to yank back, your back colliding with his chest. "look at you," he cooed condescendingly, he placed sloppy kisses against your shoulder blade.
"getting fucked so good by the little bitch boyfriend, hm?" he asks, his cock still slamming into your dripping cunt, "you just love when i treat you like a fucking whore, don't you, sweetheart?" he asks.
you were unable to form any coherent thoughts, his thrusts hitting deep within you, the overstimulation making your body go limp. you let out a series of babbles and cries, begging for him.
"i'm cumming," he states, his voice low and gravely, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. you could feel his cock pulsate inside of you, the feeling of his warm release coating your walls triggering yours.
you could feel him pulse, your walls clenching around him, milking him for all his worth. your head rolls back onto his shoulder, your breath coming out in heavy pants.
"did i hurt you?" he asks softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your hips, and back. you hum, "a little," you squeak out, "but it was nice," you reassure him, and you could feel him kiss the shell of your ear.
"i didn't scare you did i?" he asks, and you could tell he was concerned.
"no," you state, "not at all," you add, and his hands go turn you around, lifting you onto the marble counters. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to hurt you," he states, his lips ghosting over your bruised neck, from the previous nights.
"i know," you state, smiling up at him. "did it work though?" he asks, his finger tracing your bottom lip, "forgot about matt?" he questions.
you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck, "wasn't a thought in my head anyways," you whisper, your nose nudging his.
"good," he smiles, "i'd hate to have to do it again," he adds, pecking your lips.
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hxtmvlk · 3 months
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omg I just read nanami & inumaki reaction to an escape hajajaajjaajahjsoxox what about toji gojo and geto
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Sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy! [Nanami/Inumaki version!]
—> Follow my editor @ayanooverblot <3
Dead Dove Do Not Eat
Toji
You wouldn’t get far with Toji as your yandere. The fact that he’s a bounty hunter with an incredible physique means you’re in for trouble. He’ll even turn your ‘escape’ into a little game for his own sadistic amusement. It makes you feel like prey getting chased by a predator. Once he gets tired of chasing you though, he’ll result to his other violent methods..
A sharp pain fills your thigh making you scream a cry out in pain. A sadistic laugh answers your scream. “Naughty bunny. Tryin’ to run away?” You fall onto the ground, sweat beading around your forehead as your dewy eyes were wide open in fear. The wound hurts so much, your ears hurt so much. You slowly turn ur head around, seeing the gun in Toji’s hand. He fucking shot you. “T-Toji…” You could barely even get the name out, your mind full on adrenaline. He smirks his damn eyes narrowing as he does so. He opens his mouth to say something but you can’t hear it, your ears are still ringing, blood rushing passed them. You pant, your hands clawing at the dirty ground as you try crawling away. You feel drunk almost, the way your head sways back and forth while crawling on the floor. You were so close to freedom, free from this awful man. So close… reaching your hand out you could practically feel the relief of the sunshine on your face once more. If only the world was that kind to you. Toji grabs you by your arm lifting you up with barely any effort, your leg screaming in pain as he does so. “You’re so cute when you want to play, too bad I’m not in the mood.. Maybe another time, yeah?” You couldn’t even register his words, throwing up remnants of breakfast all over the floor. You’ve never felt a bullet go through you and god is it painful. Toji watches as you vomit, picking you up by ur waist when you finish and throwing you over his shoulder. You grip on his black shirt your nails scraping his muscular back. You look at what was supposed to lead you to your freedom. That freedom you were so close to gets farther and farther away until it’s only a dim light of hope.
Gojo
Gojo does not care whatsoever if you escape him. He’s so full of himself that he thinks he can just go grab and play with you whenever he likes, and he thinks you enjoy it. It could be a few days, you could have tried to warn the cops, maybe gotten a flight to get the hell out of the country. Whatever you do Gojo is going to effortlessly pick you up, bring you back *home* and then fuck your brains out. Gojo finds it a bit humorous you think you can hide from the strongest but he also finds it kind of annoying when he has to go get you. He might even try tying you up to his bed if you continue to act like such a brat, that’s what he threatens anyways. But he loves his little sex doll so much we both know he won’t do that.
“Oh shit your so fucking tight, I love this pussy of yours.” Gojo starts mumbling praises after praises as he pounds into your poor cunt not even giving you a second to take a breather. His relentless pace doesn’t stop it feels like you’re going numb from how long he’s been going at it. Gojo was being extremely rough with you tonight since you escaped 2 days ago, gripping onto you roughly, spanking you, making sure you didn’t cum. His actions made you dizzy and nauseous, gripping onto his back as you leave red scratch marks. “Satoru, please slow down..” He only answers with mumbles and laughs continuing his pace. All that plea does change is his grip on your body becoming tighter, your waist hurting from the grip. “How do you expect me to slow down when you feel so damn good?” He dryly laughs, lowering his head to suck on your sweaty neck. Your moans feel so unreal as he continues his pace. You hate how you’re starting to get use to the shape of his cock inside you, and how wide he’s stretching you. “I’m so close doll..” He grunts grabbing onto your plush thighs to pull himself deeper inside of you. “Aren’t you so happy the strongest is making you feel this good? Come on sweetheart say it.” His obsessive stare with those blue eyes of his was enough to get you to answer him. “S..so good Satoru..” You mumble not even noticing the tears that have already gone down your cheeks. He laughs cumming into you once again that night. You feel so full.. so full of regret and embarrassment. There’s no way you could ever escape Satoru Gojo.
Geto
Geto is a very.. condescending man. He’s manipulative with his choice of wording always trying to persuade you into just giving up. You can’t tell if it’s because he enjoys playing mind games with you or if he likes seeing you fall for his tricks, or both.. Whatever the reason is you hate it. The mock in his tone when he finally catches you after your escape makes it even worse
“Sweeetheart come out please..” Geto’s sickeningly sweet voice calls out in the empty halls. You were so mad you couldn’t get far from him, but your anger was quickly taken over by the fear of being caught by him. Geto saw you trying to escape, you know he’ll punish you if he catches you now. Geto sighs, his footsteps echoing against the floor. “Princess please.. I know you’re in here.” Your throat feels dry as you hear his voice getting closer. You hate how condescending he sounds, like he hasn’t put you through hell and practically forced you to join his stupid cult. You bring your knees closer to your chest hoping he just leaves and goes somewhere else. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. “Don’t let me drag you out darling.. You know I don’t wish to hurt you.” Lies. He enjoys when misery is plastered on your face because of him. Your eyes blew wide open when a hand lands on your shirt’s collar lifting you up from the ground. You let out a scream trying to scratch him off of you, your legs kicking as he lifts you up like a pet. “There you are, darling.” He gives you a soft smile pulling you into a tight hug. You squirm in his hug trying to get out of his grasp. He sighs placing his hand on the top of your head in what was supposed to be a ‘comforting’ manner, but it only made you feel more like a pet. “Why do you have to be so difficult sweetie..?” His question and touch make you cringe. “I hate you that’s why.” He responds with an amused laugh, patting your back. “Let’s go get ready for bed now, shall we?”
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heelvsted · 21 days
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➤ 𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 - 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌
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-> THIS WORK CONTAINS NSFW
-> COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED
-> DO NOT COPY OR REPOST
-> WARNINGS; 18+,smut,p in v,choking(?),not too detailed,reader is a bit of a brat
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who notices your car zoom past his vehicle,not even having enough time to register the number plate properly and has to chase you down
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who smirks when his eyes catch your thighs rubbing together as he falsely accuses you of denting his car rather than charging you for speeding and let you go once he has the cash
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who has other plans when you talk back about his wrong choice of words and ask him to show what kind of dent was so visible in his eyes.
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who coos in your ear when you bend down slightly to see and touch the dent but before you stand up,you feel him standing too close to you,the distance between you two?nonexistent.
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who gets confronted about it and scoffs,"so what if i lied?i still have the power to charge you more than just a dent..better to just give in and get away,sweets"
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who leaves wet kisses on your neck,sending shivers down our spine,making your body jolt forward but he uses this as his que to press himself against your ass.
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who amazes you with how strong he is,pushing and pulling you into positions,you never thought you could be in,the open environment adding more into the excitement.
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who growls when he feels your hand wrap around the base of his cock,as the rest just slides in and out of you,now even better with your fingers guiding it. The surface of the car's hood felt cold against your already hardened nipples even if he warmed your body up
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who doesn't slow down even when he hits the end of your walls,very happy to feel your stomach bulging and wants to keep hitting it till you see stars
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who threatens you that he will cum inside you if you don't speak up and apologize for your bratty behavior earlier but chuckles darkly when he sees you can only let out garbled screams and tug on his biceps which became a pretty necklace for you.
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who ends up spending the next few hours in burying his length in your womb,slowly fallig in love with that way your pussy juices make the dirtiest sounds ever,making him cum hard on spot,making a complete mess of you. The intensity at which the cop fucks you, had your legs shaking above his shoulders.
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who drops you off at a hotel,covering all the cash for you,since he doesn't know where you live. And even drops his number on a small paper,keeps it beside your pillow
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who makes sure you sleep soundly after all the hard labor,for sure it was going to be something he remember,hoping for your call to ring on his phone first thing in the morning
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 who is shocked when he sees your car pull up beside his garage,he smirks in victory,sipping his morning coffee as he watches you get out of your car with a blown out face,the afterglow visible to his eyes only,hair a bit ruined,but you looked pretty as ever.
𝑪𝑶𝑷!𝑯𝑬𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑼𝑵𝑮 knows now he had more than just one chance to see you. And he was gonna make use of this very well.
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missbunnybunny · 9 months
Text
❣💌[ I'm stravin' , Darlin' ]💌❣
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Tw: non-con, dubcon, yandere, stalking, Somnophilia, Drugging, breeding, cockwarming.
A/n: this is my first detailed smut. It was going well at the start until I took a wrong turn and fell off a cliff. Possessive music got influence. I don't know what I wrote, am going to hell, his more delusional; than me. smh. ENJOY!
Note: this is a y/n x pretty yandere, female-bodied reader. Based on the songs Eat Your Young by Hozier and An Unhealthy Obsession by Blake Robinson, helped write this song. pet names such as Darlin, Love, and good girl. If I forgot something plz tell me.
You were exhausted. Who could blame you for being tired? You enjoyed your job as the owner of a small coffee shop, but you were drained and your staff adored you. When they had an emergency, you were incredibly nice to them and understanding. You didn't inquire, you just told them not to worry because you trusted them and they trusted you.
You didn't hesitate to assist your staff when an aggressive customer screamed and yelled at them. You listened to all sides of the story and kept your eyes on the cameras. When they realized they didn't have a foothold, you politely requested them to go. But if they weren't kind enough to go, you merely called the cops. You would never let them get away with it; you had patience, but not that much.
So, after the day was done, you secured your doors and walked upstairs to your house. You double-checked that all the doors and windows were secured and that the security system was turned on and operational. Taking a soothing bubble bath, dressing, and preparing for some much-needed rest. Closing your eyes and basking in the warm embrace of sleep. Your eyes slowly opened, and you attempted to move your fingers, but they wouldn't budge. You had been under a lot of stress recently due to overwork, and sleep paralysis was now typical for you.
You could hear your door opening and the floors squeaking. The ebony form of a guy appeared. He was tall, and the broadness of his shoulders suggested that he worked out. As you felt the bed drop at your feet, he sat at the end of it. His hand began to go up and down your leg gently. Coming to a halt at your thigh. He hummed to himself while pinching your inner thigh.
You uttered a grunt. He came to a halt and gazed up at you. As he peered down at your face, his face slowly entered the frame. "Oh, how pretty," he said, lovingly cupping your face. "I don't think I could hold myself back." His breath lightly fanning your face, he murmured. He kissed you, and you let out a frightened moan and screwed your eyes shut. He took advantage of the situation by inserting his tongue inside your mouth. While squeezing your inner thigh, he hummed to himself. His hand creeps up and beneath your shirt from your thigh. He pulled your nipple and squeezed your breast. He linked his mouth to yours with a thin string of saliva. He licked his lower lip. "You taste amazing," he replied with a smile.
He kissed your lips once more, and you felt him get out of bed. You sprang awake and took a glance around. Your clothing was in good condition and not flung around. You raced to your restroom and looked in the mirror; there were no handprints anywhere on you. You rushed to your front door, terrified, and examined your alarm system; nothing was amiss. You were befuddled, and your thinking was jumbled. You summarized it up to well: an odd wet dream, stress, and being punted up may all lead to unusual nightmares, especially when combined with sleep paralysis.
You sipped your favorite comfort drink, rubbed your temples, and took a few deep breaths. Exhale a sigh of relief as you feel your tension wash away. You put on your business attire and prepare to open your shop. The business opens at 8 a.m., so you were there by 6:30, and by 7 a.m., staff began to arrive. Everyone was having a fantastic time in the shop, which was filled with laughter and music. When the clock struck eight, you laughed, "It's eight, you know what to do. Hit it!" Everyone queued up got into place, and you opened the store. Customers arrived quickly after that.
When a well-dressed man entered and approached the counter, your staff was busy. As you finished serving one of your usual clients, you noticed him and called, "I'll be with you in a minute." "Thank you, hun." The kind old lady stated. You smiled at her and walked over to the counter to assist the man. "I'm sorry, did I keep you waiting too long?" you said as you set up the ordering machine. "No, not at all." He informed you in hushed tones, he was attractive, you had to admit it. His voice seemed strangely familiar to you, but you couldn't place it. But you shrugged it off and smiled as you asked him what he needed.
"A coffee with a cake," he answered politely. "Ah, what cake would you like sir, we have many options." you beam up at him, giving him a tiny smile. "Oh, what would you recommend, my dear?" he asks, quietly tapping the counter. "Would red velvet cake be acceptable?" "It's one of my favorites," you inquired. He nodded, and you concluded his order with a small 'mm'. " Would that be all, sir?" "If so, this is your total," you say, pointing to the sum on the side of the register. " Yes." He responded and paid.
As soon as the order appears on the screen, one of your staff takes it while you assist with the other tasks and clients. Since the front of the store was fully filled, the man was directed to the back. He could see the counter and you from where he was seated. The manager patted you on the shoulder and smiled at you as they spoke to you. You chuckle and smile as you remove your apron. "I'm taking a break, everyone," you say. 'Okay, ma'am,' they respond. You step away from the counter and take a seat on one of the unoccupied stools close to his table. While on the phone with someone, you smile and giggle.
He can't stop staring at you. It was fortunate that he instructed his assistant to investigate you. He even postponed a lunch date with the daughter of a well-known corporation. He didn't mind because he could tell she was attempting to catch his attention. He couldn't care less about how much her clothing cost or how it 'accidentally' revealed her chest. He'd rather be here, staring at your face and grin. It was a coincidence that he first spotted you; one of his clients requested to meet at this cafe since they genuinely enjoyed your coffee and sweets. He couldn't get your face out of his mind and thoughts after that.
Your phone call had finished, and you turned to meet his gaze. You froze as you studied his face. He saw the fact and grinned. You realized he hadn't touched his cake and sighed in despair. "Do you not like the cake, Sir?" You questioned him quietly, your gaze fixed on the plate. "Oh, no, it's not like that. "I was saving the cake for last because it was so delicious." He let you know quietly. "Oh, okay," you said as you stood up and turned around. "Would you like to join me?" he offered, and you graciously accepted his invitation.
You spoke till your break ended. He became a regular client after that and frequently asked about your favorite treats to try. It had been months since then, yet you still felt tired whenever you saw him. He was the final customer in the shop on one such occasion. You sent your employees early, not wanting to keep them waiting so they didn't miss their bus or train. "It's closing time, Mister Blackwell; you should go home," you said. "I told you to call me James, Darling." He told you firmly. " However, I agree. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you." While drinking his drink, he informed you.
"Would you mind joining me before I leave?" He remarked this while pointing to the seat next to him. you exclaimed, "You are extremely persistent." You shook your head and set your favorite drink on the table. turning around and laying a little slice of cake next to your drink. You had no idea what he had placed into your drink by the time you sat next to him. He grinned as you took a sip of your drink, seeing your expression shift.
He watched as your eyes gradually closed and you collapsed on the table, spilling your cup on the floor. "What…did you do?" You questioned him carefully, feeling yourself nodding off. "Don't worry, my love, I'll take care of you." As you eventually slid away, you heard him declare. You wake up with him twirling his tongue at your clit, then cat licking your entrance, going back and up to your clit, before his tongue went into your pussy, tasting every inch of it. You eventually let out a whimper as the knot in your gut finally split and you filled his mouth with your cum. "You're awake, I hope you don't mind," he whipped his mouth with his palm. "I was dying to taste you." He stated. His gaze moved up and down your body, forming an image of you in his mind. You attempted to speak, but all you got was a broken wail. Your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and you were entirely bare to him. Your eyes began to water, and silent tears streamed down your cheeks. " Why are you crying, Darlin?" He stated this as he licked your tears away before giving you a ravenous kiss, His tongue quickly claiming your mouth.
He released your lips as he stated, "It will take a while until you can move again, but don't worry, I'll make you feel good." He gently graded your hand before bringing it to the bulge on his pants. "This is what you did to me." He talked as he stroked your palm up and down his bulge, letting out a groan as he began to accelerate. He stared down at you, hungry, and proceeded to remove his outfit. He was now entirely exposed for you to see. " Oh, very lovely. I'm curious how you'll look after I slit you in half on my dick." He murmured this as he sank his thick fingers into your pussy, causing your back to arch. When he noticed your body jerked up and your jaw fell open, he smiled even more.
He discovered your sweet spot! He curled his fingers in the same place over and over. You felt that familiar tight knot in your gut emerges, prompting you to tighten your walls around his fingers. "That's it, cum on my fingers like the good girl you are," he said. Your walls flutter subconsciously at his words, "Oh, you like being called a good girl?" he questioned, advancing faster. Your moans and whimpers sounded like music to his ears. He was itching to sink his dick into you. You came undone under him with one more stroke, cumming on his fingers and hand. He took his hand away and brought it up to his mouth, licking your juices. "You taste divine." He exhaled.
He positioned himself at your entrance, tapping his dick on your assaulted lips. He graded your legs and pushed them on your chest in a typical mating press position, and you could plainly see his pink tip and how enormous he was. Once he got you the way he wanted you, you felt the swelling tip of his cock press against your tight entrance and buckle his hip. He bottoms out in one push, his pelvis colliding with your entrance. He took your breath away since he was so large. And, as he claimed, he was splitting you in half with his dick. "Don't pass out on me, Darlin," he remarked, softly patting your cheek with his palm." The fun is just getting started," he remarked as he kissed you on the lips. Allowing you to get used to his size before proceeding. You were so tight! And you are his and his alone.
His cock began to slide in and out of your tight pussy, as if you were nothing more than a fleshlight at his disposal. "Y/n I'm going to make you only mine," your desperate cries mixed with groans as you sought to stop him. The sound of skin smacking against skin got louder as he thrust harder and harder. Your muscles were absolutely spasming, and your eyes could hardly fixate or focus on his sweat-splattered face above you.
So this was how it felt to be with a man like him, putting you precisely where you should have always been. BELOW HIM, you were groaning, saliva flowing from the corners of your lips, and your eyes rolled up every time his cock brushed your cervix and his pelvic bone stroked against your swollen clit. Your eyes met his and he kissed you passionately; the longer the two of you kissed, the more his hips appeared to press into yours. The headboard of the bed was crashing fiercely into the wall, adding yet another obscene sound to the symphony.
You could feel his dick pounding against your walls; it was clear he was nearing his climax, which was going to totally fill you up to the point of leaking, and then fuck a baby into your womb. As he furiously pounded into you, his hands came to your waist and had a tight grasp on you. You felt James base expand and get even bigger only seconds before his hot sperm was spurting into your womb and the veins surrounding his dick were pulsating against your walls, making you gasp for the nth time. The sensation of being totally filled was so intense that you almost ended up cumming again.
He lay down next to you, panting and allowing you to collect your breath. As your body was extremely sore, he began spooning you from behind his cock, still inside you. "Sleep, Love, you must be tired," he kissed your neck. I'll prepare something for you in the morning." You were exhausted, and your half-lined eyelids eventually closed as you slept off. James grabbed up his phone and called over your sleeping figure. The phone rang till someone answered, "Ray?" "Did you do what I asked?" he inquired calmly. "Yes, I made sure to delete the footage of you breaking into the home months ago, as well as the alarm system," Ray stated gently. "Perfect" James smiled, hanging up the call as he fell asleep next to you.
After so long of only admiring you from afar and secretly stroking you as you slept, he was overjoyed to finally hold you in his arms. Don't worry, you can have a better life because He will take excellent care of you. "It'll take some getting used to, but we'll make it work." were his final thoughts as he fell asleep affectionately sound asleep with you in his arms.
Am gonna dig a hole and hide. bye....👩🏽‍🦯
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