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kasagia · 6 months ago

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imgonnagetyouback

Pairing: Benny Cross x fem!ex-girlfiriend! reader Summary: After your rather stormy breakup, Benny decides he can't live without you. He'll get you back. At any cost. Even if he has to force you over his motorcycle and take you far out of town. Taglist for Benny: @aleemendoza2425-blog Benny Cross' Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist P.S. I accept requests for Benny if you want to read sth specific with our boy 😊

Even if it's handcuffed I'm leaving here with you Bygones will be bygone eras Fading into gray We broke all the pieces, but still want to play the game I told my friends I hate you but I love you just the same Pick your poison, babe I'm poison either way... Whether I'm gonna be your wife or Gonna smash up your bike I haven't decided yet But I'm gonna get you back - "imgonnagetyouback" Taylor Swift

“What the hell is he doing here?” You ask angrily, looking out your office window as you see your ex’s Harley parked next to your car.

"Maybe he forgot something from you. Did you give him all his stuff back?" Your friend asks, putting the papers into a folder.

"No. I gathered all four of his shirts and two pairs of pants and made myself a campfire behind the house." You huff angrily, closing the blinds so you wouldn't have to watch the blue-eyed Vandal leaning against your car.

"So what does he want? From what you've told me, your relationship ended in a hell of a bad way, and he was a world-class asshole." You tremble at the mere memory of your breakup with Benny.

You and he met at one of the Vandals' bar. You happened to go there for a drink with your girls; he noticed you and started talking with you. He was flirting with you the whole night and tried to take you with him for a ride on his bike. The first time you turned him down. Then he tracked down where you lived and showed up at your door, offering a ride to your work.

You should have seen a red flag then. But you were too stupid and infatuated by him enough to think it was romantic.

As time went on, he took you to Vandals meetings more and more often. And it was fun. Until you had to bail him out of arrest, pick him up from the hospital, and wait forever for him at home, wondering if he'd be sleeping next to you in bed or at the police station.

And one day, when he ended up in the hospital after some guys beat him up for wearing Vandal's colours, you broke. You begged him to stop while he was still alive and well (which was doubtful considering the doctors were still debating whether to cut off his foot); you literally knelt by his bed and cried like a baby while all he cared about was whether he could keep riding.

But that wasn't the worst. The worst was that every time you argued, he threatened to leave, to disappear, that it would be best for you if he left you alone. And at first you begged him, terrified, to stay, but over time you started to react to those words... more aggressively.

Then you decided you were fed up with living with the wandering cat he was and broke up with him. Roughly. Stormily. Your neighbours heard more than one of your arguments, and the whole street saw you throwing his stuff out the window and finally throwing rocks at him as he rode away on his beloved Harley. On second thought, maybe you were both two big damn red carpets.

"I don't want to know. Will you take me home? The last thing I want today is to meet that son of a bitch."

You sigh, dragging the papers to your desk. You grab your black blazer and throw it on over your white shirt. You adjust your black pencil skirt and grab your purse to follow your friend.

You took the job as a secretary right after breaking up with Benny. You quit your old job not wanting him to know where you worked, but apparently Vandal had his ways. You wonder if choosing another job wasn't a slap in the face for Benny. Choosing such a boring and ordinary job would piss him off even more and prove that you really aren't made for each other.

Just like Benny, you could be hellishly mean.

"What the hell?" Your friend asks as you exit out the back and her car isn't in the parking lot. But there is another Vandal with his motorcycle.

"Johnny." You greet him and walk over to him, crossing your arms. Your friend is hot on your heels. "What are you doing here?"

"Kiddo said you two have a problem in your relationship."

"We don't have any relationship, so there is no problem between us. But apparently, my friend lost her car. Can you help her?" You ask him, furious with Benny for not acknowledging your breakup.

"Y/N... you know that I don't like to get involved in the shit that's not mine, but this kid has been going crazy for a month now. He's been doing even worse shitty things than before, and I can't tell you how many times we've picked him up from jail in the past few fucking weeks. If you ever cared about him, talk to him. He's becoming wildly unpredictable. Even for me."

You bite your lip at his words. You know perfectly well what Benny is like, or rather what he was like before he met you. Thanks to you, he stopped riding so fast and carefree, ended up in the hospital much less often, and even obeyed the speed limit when you were with him on his bike.

You can only imagine what he's been up to in your absence and to what extent, since Johnny took an interest and came to you to talk about it.

"Don't manipulate me, Johnny. You know damn well he deserved it. Now you know what I had to deal with throughout this whole fucking relationship." You reply dryly, not wanting to fall for the Vandals' sweet words again.

You loved them like family, but sometimes you have to cut yourself off from them to save your sanity. And you desperately needed some time to yourself and a break from all of Benny's antics.

"Well... I know Benny isn't easy, but he really is a good kid. Carrot and stick. That's what he needs. And for the sake of your lady-buddy's car and your friendship... maybe you should go and have a few words with him."

"Screw you." You growl, rolling your eyes, and walk away from them. "What are you waiting for?! Take her to this fucking car!" You shout, walking back to the main building to exit through the main entrance.

Johnny puts your friend on his bike, and all you can do is give her an apologetic look as he takes her to where they moved her car. You don't even want to know how they did it.

You sigh as you walk through the office and stand in front of the main exit doors. You glance at your watch and walk out of the building with your heart in your mouth.

You walk down the sidewalk with the other people from work who have just left. Benny's blue irises land on you immediately. He straightens up, stopping leaning against your car and throwing away a cigarette he was smoking. He looks at you expectantly. You nod at him and pretend to walk in his direction.

You cross the street on the crosswalk, but instead of turning right towards the parking lot, you run as hard as you can to the left towards the bus stop.

"Y/N!" Benny shouts after you, and a moment later, you hear the thud of his combat boots against the pavement as he runs after you.

The bus pulls up to the stop, and you run inside. Luckily, the driver closes the doors before Benny can get to them. He bangs on the glass, shouting your name and some curse words, but you can't hear him clearly as the bus starts moving.

You breathe a sigh of relief and wipe your sweaty forehead. This time you did it. You just hoped your friend would get her car back before Benny went to Johnny and complained to him that you ran away.

But for now, you're happy that you managed to outsmart your ex.

The next morning you cautiously peer out from behind your front door, searching for a head of blonde hair. Even though you couldn't see any Vandal's motorcycle through the window, you wanted to be sure that none would suddenly pop out from nowhere.

You sigh with relief, not seeing anything suspicious.

You open the door wider, but something is blocking you. On your way out, you notice a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers. You pick it up and examine it carefully, but you don't see any note or card. But you do see a necklace.

The flowers are tied with a fucking necklace. The necklace Benny gave you at the beginning of your relationship with his initials carved into the back of the silver heart. (One of the guys worked at a jeweler's and did it for him for practically free through a connection or something.) The necklace you threw in his face when you broke up with him.

Furious, you want to throw the flowers in the trash. Instead, you decide to put the necklace in your pocket and walk to work. On the way, you pass a school and hand the bouquet to the first girl you see. At least she was happy because of those damn flowers.

As you continue your walk, you see a motorcyclist in the distance. You tense up and quicken your pace, praying that it's not a Vandal, but apparently you're out of luck today.

"Y/N?! How long have we not seen each other?!" Danny screams as he rides to you. You sigh as his bike blocks the entire sidewalk and force a smile.

"Probably ages ago. How you doing?"

"Great. Can I give you a ride somewhere? Where's Benny? Shouldn't he be the one hauling your ass to work?" He asks, already taking out a helmet for you. You reluctantly accept it and climb behind him on the bike.

"We broke up." You inform him, knowing full well that he's been away from the Vandals lately due to studies and his photography stuff.

"Oh shit. He must be devastated then." He comments and starts the engine. You hold on to him as he drives you to the address you gave him.

The drive takes a few minutes. Luckily, your car is still parked outside the building, and you don't see any parked bikes.

"Thanks. Danny? Can you give this to Benny? You probably will see him sooner than me." You say and hand him the necklace. He nods and drives away, leaving you alone.

You approach your car and curse, seeing the lock placed on the wheel. Not a police lock. A lock that the Vandals often put on and took off in exchange for small money. A small tag was attached to it. It had the date and time written on it—probably their next meeting that they wanted you to join in exchange for taking the damn thing off your car.

"Bad day?"

You flinch and turn around, surprised by someone's presence. You sigh with relief when you see only Mike—an accountant from the company you worked for.

"Bad week. Plus, it looks like I'm grounded." You say and kick your leg against the wheel of your car.

"Yeah, I recognise that. My friend had to pay them like $100 to get that damn thing off. He was rushing to some meeting and couldn't wait for the police and similar stuff. I can get someone to take it off for you."

"I'm afraid I don't have enough money." You sigh, mentally preparing yourself for a weekend with the Vandals. In Benny's company. Talking to him. You already feel sick.

"For free. Friend of mine owns me a little favour."

"Seriously?" You ask, shocked. He nervously rubs the back of his neck with his hands and nods, giving you an uncertain smile.

"Yeah, no problem. And before he will do it... do you mind if we both go to lunch? I mean... you don't have to if you don't want to..."

"You know... I would actually like that." You interrupt him with a smirk, seeing him stuttering, unable to finish his sentence as he blushes.

"Really?" You almost giggle at his incredulous question and the gleam of happiness in his eyes. You nod with a huge, genuine smile, practically forgetting why you agreed to this date in the first place. "So... in four hours at the exit?"

"I will be waiting." With a smile, you leave him behind and enter the office. Maybe this day wasn't such a tragedy after all...

Benny was drinking beer with Johnny and Danny at a table in their favourite bar. The Vandals were circling him like vultures, just waiting for a little sensation and gossiping about his breakup with you.

"It must be hard for you, man. We all saw how much you loved her. Like a Catholic loves a goddamn God."

"Too bad she can't see it." Benny mumbles, lighting a cigarette. His one hand plays with the necklace he left on your doorstep this morning, which you gave to Denny. Benny gave you his fucking heart, and you still rejected it. He had to try harder. He had to talk to you first.

"Hey Benny-boy? How are you? Are you still getting over your breakup with your girlfriend? Do you love her that much? Come on, come with us. We'll race to the brothel, and you'll forget about this bitch in a second." Some Vandal walks up to him and pats him on the back.

"Benny no..." Johnny is interrupted by the crash of Vandal's jaw as Benny's fist hits him.

A second later, a beer bottle shatters over the head of a bleeding man on the floor, and Johnny and Danny try to pull him away from the guy. The entire club boos and cheers for the fight, but the guys quickly drag Benny outside.

"What the hell?! You can love her, but damn, don't be such a girl and react at each shitty comment!" Johnny yells at him and hits him in the chest with his hands. Benny huffs indignantly and puts his hands in his pockets to stop himself from hitting him.

"I hate her!" He growls furiously and plays with the necklace in his pants' pocket.

"And love her just the same, huh?" Danny asks and gives Benny a cigarette.

Benny doesn't answer. He smokes furiously, trying to clear his head, but all he can think about is you. Your scent, your taste, the softness of your body, the shudder of your breath beneath him, the way you clenched your hands around his shirt across his stomach when you rode with him on his bike, the way you pressed yourself against him and snuggled up to him every chance you got... fuck, he missed you. More than he previously thought he would be.

"Benny?! I saw your girl with some man in a suit! At that one of those Italian restaurants on the corner of Main Street. You know, the shitty one for rich people. You should do something about this." One of the bikers rides up and informs him, then rides away before Benny can say anything.

"Kid, don't…" Johnny tries to stop him, but Benny is already on his motorcycle. He starts it and rides as fast as he can, ignoring the shouts behind him.

All Benny could think about was how he was going to beat up the guy who dared to touch you. You were his girlfriend. You were one of the Vandals. You might have been on a break, but that didn't give any man the right to hit on you. Not when you had Benny and Benny had you.

It was simple logic. Nobody messes with the Vandals and their girls.

Benny sped through the city, not stopping at red lights. It wasn't until he was at a restaurant that he stopped his Harley.

He didn't turn off the engine, though. He was staring intently through the restaurant windows and checking out each customer until his eyes landed on you and some shit in a suit who had the nerve to get your attention.

Benny tugged on the handle, causing his bike's engine to roar furiously—like a guard dog giving a warning before it attacks. He increased the engine's roar until your eyes met his.

A cold shiver ran through him as you threw him one of your angry looks, and he felt hurt when you ignored him and continued to talk with the man sitting in front of you and gave him one of your most wonderful smiles. Fuck it. The guy wouldn't be able to walk when Benny got to him.

Benny reaches into his pocket, pulls out a pack of Marlboro, and lights his cigarette. He holds it to his mouth with one hand while the other continues to crank the handle of the engine, so that the roar of the engine drowns out any conversation you might have had with the man in front of you.

He smirks as you and the guy in front of you stare in his direction. He holds a cigarette between his plush lips and waves at you, causing an irritated frown to form on your forehead.

Benny can't help but feel a strange bile rising in his throat as he looks at the two of you. You were on a date with a guy who was clearly the opposite of Benny. He wonders if this is what you really want—a boring guy with a boring job and a tonne of money who could build you a house with a fucking white picket fence and drive you to work in his Cooper car and the kids to preschool. It makes him sick to think that you could be anyone else, that you could have anyone else's children, that you could be married to some guy in a suit and live the life of a fucking decent 1950s shitty family.

Benny knew perfectly well that he couldn't give you what this guy could provide you. He couldn't even afford a date at a restaurant like that.

However, it didn't change the fact that he loved you so damn much.

"Hey! Biker dude, leave Y/N alone!" A guy in a suit comes out of the restaurant and yells at him. Benny calmly finishes his cigarette and throws it on the ground, staring silently at the man in front of him. "Did you hear me, degenerate? Get out of here!" The guy pushes him, hitting his chest. For Benny, that's enough.

He lands the first punch with his right fist, landing perfectly on his opponent's cheek. The next punch sends blood pouring from the man's nose onto his snow-white shirt. But for Benny, it's not enough.

He throws the guy to the ground, and the two begin to fight in earnest. Benny, however, has a much greater advantage and motivation as he takes out all his anger on the guy below him. He only snaps out of this strange trance when someone's hands pull him away from the bleeding man below him.

"What the fuck was that, Benny?! You almost killed him!" You yell at him angrily, pulling your hands away from him as quickly as you can. Benny says nothing, staring at you silently as he processes what he just did. Several other motorcycles pull up in front of the restaurant, with Johnny in the lead.

"Let's go, kid! Before the police arrive."

Benny stares at you, not quite wanting to leave before he explains why he beat up your date. But he stops himself the moment he sees the fear and disgust in your eyes. It hurts Benny more than any punch he could have taken. He clenches his jaw and walks to his bike. He starts the engine and gives you one last long look, then lowers his head in shame as he joins the other Vandals.

Your hair flutters in the wind as you watch the Vandals drive away. You run over to Mike and wait with him until the ambulance arrives. But you don't follow him to the hospital. You have more important things to take care of in the city.

With trembling hands, you knock on the door. You wait patiently outside, considering the pros and cons, but before you can chicken out and leave, Betty opens the door for you.

"Y/N? This is quite a surprise."

"Can I come in? I need to talk to you." The woman makes room for you and lets you in. You greet her and Johnny's daughters, who are watching a cartoon on TV, and you go with her to the kitchen, where you can talk in peace. "It's about Benny."

"I expected it. You know, we were all very surprised when you broke up. We were convinced that a week longer and the boy would start looking for an engagement ring for you."

"Benny and marriage? Not in this lifetime, I guess." You scoff and sit down at the small kitchen island with a smile, thanking her for the coffee she made you. "He fucking almost beat my date to death today. He's acting crazy. Johnny tells me he's been like this since I broke up with him, but we both know he was like this long before we even met. What the hell am I supposed to do, Betty? Get out of town? Out of America? Vandals have expanded all over the states, and most of them aren't the same old club they used to be."

"I know. Believe me, I know best." Silence falls between you after her words. You nod, understanding perfectly that she of you had the most right to worry. You sigh, running your hand through your hair. "Y/N... I'll give you some advice. If you don't care about him that much... if you think you can forget and move on, then save yourself. Run away wherever you want, as far away from him as possible, and forget. But if you can't... then stay and talk some sense into him before it's too late to save him."

"Save him? You know perfectly well he won't abandon the Vandals."

"Like you said, they're not the same Vandals they used to be. They've changed. Johnny sees it. Benny sees it. And they both still fool themselves, but when some shit happens, it finally gets to them. And believe me, Benny loves his bike and freedom, but the Vandals aren't his family anymore. You are." You fall silent at her words, processing everything she said. You nod and sigh, taking a cigarette out of the pack in your pocket. "We smoke outside." She admonishes you. You laugh quietly and raise your hands in surrender.

"All right. Thanks for everything, Betty." You sigh as you leave the house. You light a cigarette and walk across town to the Vandals' bar. You have to finish everything you had to finish with Benny. You couldn't just leave town without a word. There's no telling what the Vandal would do if you suddenly disappeared.

You throw your cigarette into the bin and take a few calming breaths as you approach the biker's bar. Their engines are already roaring, and some of them, probably the young and new ones, eye you warily as you enter.

You look around the bar and frown, unable to find Benny. You walk further in, pushing through the sea of people and sitting at the head table where Johnny sits with his most important men.

"Hello there. Where is Benny?" You ask them, taking the beer from Johnny. The man raises an eyebrow at you and watches as you take a sip.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to him?"

"I have to. I'm leaving town soon. I'd rather tell that to that ticking bomb." Johnny nods, fully realising what you mean. You see Cockroach get up from the table and go to the phone. You try to listen in on the conversation, but Johnny effectively talks you over and drowns out any conversation the man was having at the bar.

"When are you coming back?" He asks, but you don't answer. You take a sip of beer and tap your finger on the neck of the bottle. "I see. The kid won't be happy, you know that?"

"We are no longer together." You snap back, trying your best to maintain your relatively indifferent attitude. "Besides, after the shit he did today, he only proved that I can't stay here anymore."

"He went for a ride. He'll probably be at the lake. Or on the streets breaking a few traffic laws. You know him."

"Too well." You nod and stand up from the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cockroach exit the bar and get on his bike. You frown and shake your head. They're not your problem anymore. "Tell him I'm looking for him. When you will see him."

"Sure." He agrees and nods. You nod back and turn to leave the bar. You scan the place one last time, knowing full well that you'll probably never set foot in it again.

Your heart clenches as you remember all the times you spent here. Both the good and the bad. Shortly after you broke up with Benny, you cursed this building. You'd rather see it burn down, along with all the Vandals that reminded you of what you'd lost.

You try to hold back the tears that are welling up in your eyes as you involuntarily recall your first meeting with Benny. The pool table is still in the same spot. How easy it would have been for you not to have looked that damned way and not fallen for the charm of those blue irises and the exposed muscles of his arms. How much disappointment and heartbreak you would have avoided if you had never entered that bar. And as much as you despised and hated that place, you loved it and the people in it for a long time and fiercely. And one of them in particular.

But how much more tragedy and sadness could you endure? How long could you live in fear and uncertainty in a relationship that was supposed to bring you only happiness and those good thrills?

Benny wanted to be free. So you will give him that freedom.

"Y/N!" Johnny calls after you before you leave. You sigh and turn to him, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Take care of yourself."

"You too." You nod at him and leave the bar.

You leave everything behind. And you feel like a piece of you is dying in the flames of time and the cry of your tormented heart..

Surprisingly, it doesn't take you long to pack. Nor does it take you long to get off work. Two days later, you're standing in the hallway of your house, ready to hand over the keys to your cousin, who's supposed to be selling it.

You stare at the picture Danny took of you and Benny when you were sitting at one of the biker picnics. Benny and you were leaning against his bike. He had his arm over your shoulder and was staring at you with loving puppy eyes while you smiled at the camera.

You sigh, putting the photo into your wallet and impatiently waiting for your cousin.

Just then, there's a knock on your door. You sigh and open it. You freeze, completely shocked, when you see Benny there.

"I didn't hear your bike."

"I parked down the street. So you don't get scared and run away." He says, still leaning against your door frame.

"I'm not scared of you." You huff indignantly, looking at the scratches on his face. You frown, not remembering him getting any injuries from Mike.

"I had an accident."

"Of course you had." You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. You see his jaw quiver slightly, but he just continues to stare at you with those stupid blue eyes of his, like you're the only girl in the world. "I'm leaving." You inform him, swallowing hard and waiting for his reaction. He drops his gaze to your hands and nods.

"I can see that." He says, nodding at the large travel backpack behind you.

"I won't come back." You inform him, carefully observing his reaction to it. Of course, he doesn't show anything. His face is stony as he looks at you, and his facial muscles don't even move as he doesn't reveal a single emotion to you.

"You won't come back." He repeats, not moving an inch from his spot by your door. You clench your teeth in irritation, to which he just smiles. And oh, that damn smile of his...

"That's it. You can go. You always said you'd be the one to leave. Too bad I had to be the one with the balls to do it." You say angrily, ready for him to turn around and walk to his bike, but all he does is continue to stare at you. You shake your head and push past him when you see your cousin.

You ignore Benny as you sort out the details with your cousin. You grab your backpack and walk him back to his car. You say goodbye to him and watch the car drive away. As you turn to go to the bus stop, you bump into Benny's chest.

"Sorry. I didn't see you." You say, quickly pulling away from him and trying to suppress your blush after your hands were briefly on his chest. The damn thing still had some well-trained muscles.

"Give you a lift?" He asks you seemingly innocently and puts his hands in his pockets. His gaze burns you, making your blush stay on your cheeks a little longer.

"Where are you going?" You ask as you both walk in the same direction. You don't feel like going with him, but you're not going to tell him that yet. You know he'll think of anything to make you get on that fucking bike with him.

"Florida." At those words, you freeze and stand still. You swallow and look at him for a long moment as you remember how you once begged him to go to his cousin in Florida and start a new life there. Then he chose his bike. And you chose yourself.

"To your cousin?" You ask carefully, resuming your walk.

"He hired me at his car workshop." Benny nods, walking glued to your side with his hands clasped behind him.

You feel strangely at ease talking to him. You're out of the habit of it. Of having him so close to you, of feeling the warmth of his body close to yours, of his intoxicating scent, of having his hypnotising irises focused on you and of listening to that raspy voice of his.

You missed him.

"You will have a job?" You ask, shocked. You can't imagine a free spirit like Benny finding a permanent job with set hours. "Well... that's good for you. I guess." You comment as you both walk. Suddenly he steps in front of you and stops. You sigh when you see his bike parked exactly two steps away from you. Fuck, you let that son of a bitch lead you to his bike.

"Are you getting in?" He asks, nodding at his bike. And as much as you want to say yes, you know it'll be bad for both you and him.

You shouldn't be together. Or at least you didn't think so. Even though you loved him so damn much.

"I will buy a train ticket." You politely decline his offer. You expect him to nod silently, get on your bike, and ride off into the sunset forever, but he still stands firmly in front of you, blocking your path.

"Where to?" He asks and looks at you suspiciously, as if he knew perfectly well that you didn't know where you were going yet. You only knew that it was definitely far from Benny.

"You don't need to know." You growl stubbornly, trying to get past him and finally move on.

But Benny won't let you. Before you can register any movement, he moves quickly and takes your hands. He wraps them tightly around his waist, and suddenly you hear a metallic click and something cold and heavy being placed on your forearms. Handcuffs. Bloody handcuffs.

"Benny!!" You growl at him angrily and struggle as he walks towards his bike. "Where the hell did you get handcuffs from?"

"Cockroach." He answers shortly and sits down, making you have to follow his lead. He fucking kidnaps you.

"Benny... let me go!" You scream, trying to punch him in the stomach, but the handcuffs are so short and far enough away from your wrists that all you can do is hold on tight as he prepares to ride.

"Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you." He tells you calmly, and you stare at him in disbelief. What the fuck?

"Don't joke! Benny!" Either he ignores your screams (which is most likely) or he doesn't hear them because at that very moment he starts the engine of his Harley.

So all you can do is sit behind him, holding on tight as he drives who knows where. Amazingly, he stops at red lights and doesn't go over the speed limit. It's only when he gets to the highway that he drives a little faster than the speed limit, but not enough to be considered dangerous driving.

You rest your cheek against his back in defeat as you realise there is absolutely no way out of this. Not if you want to stay alive. You can feel him relax a little as he rides forward, and you are not trying to fight with him. You sigh, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to rest behind him for a moment, revelling in the feeling of freedom as you whizzed through the air on his bike.

Fuck, you missed it.

The only break you get is a stop at a motel when the fuel runs out and the cold night starts to set in. Benny rents you a room (which is surprising because you were always the one paying) at the motel and leaves you there while he goes to fill up his Harley.

You think about escaping, but:

1. Benny took away the keys and locked you up there.

2. He made sure to rent a room on the highest floor of this damn building.

3. You were too tired and hungry after the ride to come up with some plan.

That's why you lay on the bed and wait for him to come back. Hopefully with food. It would be nice to eat something before you will kill him.

As if on cue, the keys turn in the door, and Benny steps inside. In his hand he has a large paper bag, which he places on the bed opposite you in an apologetic gesture of sacrifice for his sins. He can go to hell. Him and his damn puppy eyes.

"What is it?"

"Burgers. Took it for you. Your favourite." He says and makes sure he's locked the door. He puts the key in the keyhole and goes to the window.

He looks at his bike and takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lights one and looks outside, not sparing you a single glance.

"Where's your jacket?" You ask, seeing as he's not wearing his Vandals' colours. It was weird seeing him in just a T-shirt.

"On a bike in the trunk. I don't know if they'd let me here wearing that."

"You never took it off." You say shocked and raise your eyebrows at him. "You will be cold without it." You notice and take the food out of the bag. You don't eat yet, wondering if you should leave him some, if he even ate anything before he came here.

"I was cold without you." He answers quickly without even thinking much about what he's saying. You see his cheeks redden slightly as he realises he said it out loud. "Eat." He clears his throat and takes a drag on his cigarette. You sigh and start eating. You hum, savouring the delicious food, and you swear you hear him chuckle quietly from his spot by the window. Big bastard.

"Where we going?" You ask him before biting into your burger. You frown as grease leaks onto your fingers. You lick them, unconsciously teasing Benny as he... imagines what your lips wrapped around just as perfectly as they now were wrapped around your fingers. He clears his throat, seeing that you’ve caught him staring at you.

"Florida. I want to show you something." You eat in silence, wondering what he wants to show you that makes him literally chain you to himself and drag you out of town.

"And then?" You can't stand it anymore and finally ask, curious about his future plans and how long he actually wants to keep you with him.

"And then you will decide."

"Decide what? Do I want the fur handcuffs or the regular metal ones?" You snap at him, irritated.

Your sharp mockery makes him throw his cigarette out the window, and his gaze lingers there, as if he were ashamed of what he had done. On the other hand, you didn't give him much of an exit or opportunity to talk normally. You wanted to leave—just like he had promised so many times that he would do. So why did he stubbornly want to keep you if he had never cared?

Benny wasn't one for words. He was sparing with his thoughts and emotions. And for a while, his actions spoke loud enough of his devotion to you. For a while. Then your honeymoon phase wore off, and you were annoyed that he never verbally confirmed to you what his eyes had told you so many times as he held you close by the fire at night at one of the Vandals meetings.

On this particular night, some famous actress that the guys were crazy about was coming to town. Half of them got on their bikes halfway through the party and wanted Benny to join them in hunting her down and taking a picture with her. They even bribed Danny to go with them and take their stupid pictures.

"Come on, Benny. You're not coming with us? I remember you were the one who hung her poster in the club so you could get a good view of her from the pool table." One of the guys was convincing Benny, who was currently lying on the grass and resting his head on your lap, practically forcing you to comb your hands through his blonde locks.

"I have a much better view here!" He shouts at them, not even turning his head in their direction. His blue eyes never leave your face. You blush a little, ducking your head and closing your eyes as you try to ignore the whistles and teasing from the boys at his response.

A moment later, Benny props himself up on his elbows and steals the most delightful, mind-numbing kiss. You cup his cheek in your hand and let yourself sink into the feeling of his soft lips against yours, letting out a quiet sigh when he tangles his hand in your hair and presses you against the trunk of the tree behind you. You ignore the cheering Vandals put on and completely immerse yourself in your little bubble with Benny.

Everyone had their poison. For Benny, it was cigarettes and his Harley. For you, it was him. And back then it didn't bother you one bit.

"I... if you want to go you can. I won't stop you." Benny mumbles under his breath, pulling you from your thoughts. You shake your head, snorting, and set the bag of food on the nightstand next to your bed.

"Thank you so much that you provide me with my basic human rights!" You growl at him angrily, reminding him about those stupid handcuffs.

"You didn't even want to give me a chance to explain myself to you. And you know perfectly well that I never ask for anything or expect anything in return. I... I didn't see any other way to get to you. And I'm not going to apologise for that."

You roll your eyes at him, irritated. But you can't say you don't see the reasoning behind his actions. But the prospect of being dragged around by him deeply offends your innate feminism.

Seeing that you have nothing to add to the matter, he closes the window. He walks over to you and grabs the blanket off the bed. You frown as he sits down in the armchair, clearly intending to sleep there. And you don't like the fact that even though you had him in the same room, you won't be able to have his arms wrapped around you. Especially since it's so damn cold in this motel.

"Come here. You will get sick by sitting near this window. It is cold outside, and they don't even heat the room." You grumble and make room for him on the bed, hoping that you don't have to tell him the real reason you want him next to you to get him in the same bed with you.

"I will be fine." He speaks carelessly and reaches into his pocket for another cigarette.

"Benjamin Cross." You growl at him, which finally gets his full attention. "Get your fucking ass here." Benny rolls his eyes but obediently stands up. He takes off his shoes and lies down next to you in bed.

He covers you with an extra blanket and leaves an absurd amount of space between you that you honestly hate. But you won't make the first move and throw yourself into his arms. Not after he kidnapped you. But... could it really be considered kidnapping if you partly wanted it and you didn't really have anywhere else to be?

You sigh, tossing and turning in your bed as you try to find a slightly comfortable sleeping position. But it's impossible to fall asleep with Benny so close to you when you are not even able to touch him. Especially when his warmth and scent reach you, assaulting you and every ounce of restraint and self-control you had.

"What's the matter with you?" Benny asks as you toss and turn in frustration once again.

"Nothing."

Benny knows that tone. All too well. So he hesitantly moves closer to you and experimentally places a hand on your waist. When you don't push away from him, he gently pulls you toward him and tightens his hold, pressing his chest against your back. You sigh and press your lips to his forearm, rubbing your nose against the tattooed skin.

Benny doesn't comment on that. That's something you like about him. That even when you do completely absurd things, he doesn't comment on it, doesn't deny it, just stands by you in silence. Just like now.

You take his hand in yours and squeeze it so hard that his rings dig into it. But you don't care. It's nice to finally have him this close.

Benny rests his chin on your shoulder and runs his nose against your temple. His beard gently tickles you, but you do nothing about it. It's been a long time since you've had this feeling of him close to you. You turn in his arms and snuggle into him.

Benny gently strokes your back with his hand, holding you close to him without a word as you revel in his scent. For a moment you forget why you should be mad at him and stay as far away from him as possible. So when his lips fall to your forehead and he presses a long kiss there, you grab his chin and steal the kiss from him.

His full, plump lips feel wonderful against yours and caress you nicely. You moan when you can finally taste his lips on yours again, and you remember how much you've missed this feeling. His hand roams over you, and you let him touch you wherever he wants. Benny, on the other hand, is confused. One moment you're yelling at him and you're angry, and the next you want him close to you and you kiss him like there's no tomorrow. It's a nice change. But Benny is afraid of how long it will last. Of how much longer will you want him? And will you want to leave again?

For now, he had you back in his arms. And he wanted to savour that feeling. And he will give you a goddamn reason to stay.

He cups your cheek in his hand and deepens the kiss. His tongue explores your mouth again, as if learning you all over again, before wrapping his tongue around yours. You sigh as his hand slides teasingly from your cheek, down your neck, over the valley of your breasts, and to the hem of your jeans.

"Benny..." You sigh as his cold fingers touch the skin of your stomach after he unbuttons your jeans TOO slowly.

"Do you want me to stop?" Benny almost chuckles at how fast and furious your head is shaking. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your bottom lip bitten in a desperate attempt to keep from making any sound as he gently brushes his fingers over your folds. The motel walls were thin after all. "Open your eyes for me, my little rascal, and say the words. After this, there will be no turning back."

You don't even think about turning back. You don't think about leaving him. You only think about how wonderful it is to have him by your side again, how wonderful his hands feel on you, and how much you want to kiss his stupid mouth until you both have enough breath. And that's exactly what you do.

With that form of agreement from you, his fingers gently delve into your folds, exploring previously familiar territory and teasing you unintentionally as he tries to appreciate every little second he has with you.

Sex with Benny was like that. Unique, intense, a long marathon. Because, as he said, you never know when it's the last time. Although you always prayed that it would never be the last time and that he and you will both live to experience another of your hot sessions.

For now, God listened to a sinner like you...

You almost scream as he digs his long fingers into you up to his knuckles. His rings rub against the entrance of your cunt, the even colder than his fingers metal is making you shiver. Benny kisses and nibbles your neck, leaving a trail of hickies from your lips to your collarbone.

His fingers slide in and out, pushing against that sweet spot inside you that makes you scream his name. His rings push through and enter your vagina, and you can see them glistening with your arousal. And it's fucking hot. As hot as Benny's hard manhood pressing against your thigh.

You dig your nails into his neck and moan into his ear as his thumbs is pressing your swollen clit, working with all his might to bring you to the edge of your orgasm.

You bite your lip, trying to muffle your moans and cries of pleasure so everyone in the motel doesn't hear you, but Benny won't have any of that. He kisses you hungrily and pulls his hand away from you completely. You gasp, lifting your hips and seeking his hand, but he doesn't resume his ministrations until a soft moan escapes your kiss-swollen lips.

"Such a good little desprate girl for me. You take my fingers so damn well now, wrapping your tight unused walls around them, and before when you were scandalously empty, you were a nasty little brat. I shouldn't reward you for running away from me, you know, my sweetest?" He mumbles in your ear with his hoarse voice, still refusing you the touch of his sinfully long fingers.

The tears in your eyes fall freely onto the pillow as you try to gather the last remnants of logical thought to somehow prove yourself to him, because you know you won't come if you just grind against him desperately in the hopes that he'll finally give you more.

"Please Benny… I… oh… I won't leave… I won't leave.."

You tangle your hand in his hair and tug on it, to which he lets out a soft growl from his plump lips. In punishment, he gently nips your collarbone, adding another hickey to the collection, as he thankfully pushes his fingers deep into your velvety wet and eager walls again and tries to bring you immense pleasure.

And it doesn't take him very long. A few thrusts of his fingers, kisses scattered across your neck, collarbone, and cleavage, and you're falling apart beneath him. Your brain is a useless mush as you come from the mere ministrations of his fingers and the dirty words he whispers in your ear. You're drunk on Benny, on the feel of his fingers inside you, his weight on you, and the burning marks his lips leave on your skin.

You lick your lips in anticipation for him to strip down so you can get to the main part, but he just flops onto his side next to you, ignoring the obvious hard soreness in his pants, and wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you against his chest.

"I missed it." He whispers, kissing your knuckles. You feel his grip on your hand tighten, but he doesn’t move to taste you on his fingers. He simply places your joined hands on his chest, his other hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.

You know this is the closest you'll get to an admission of guilt and an apology from him. So you accept it and gently snuggle into him.

"Good night, Benny." You whisper into his neck. He shivers.

Goosebumps appear on the skin of his neck, but he doesn't move. You just lie there, cuddled up to each other, and he presses a long kiss to the top of your head. You feel fulfilled, satisfied, happy,

He lies under you politely, ignoring his discomfort, and you know that this is some kind of sick punishment for himself. Yet you do nothing to stop it. He has to realise that he can't just take you on his bike and take you to hell knows where. He needs to realise that he can't be such a free spirit anymore if he really wants you. That he can't keep doing the shit he did with the Vandals.

Even if you're happy with how things turned out after he dargged you out of the town.

And when the next day he takes you to Florida and shows you the old family home that he inherited from his deceased father and says that he would love to burn this place down in the past, but now he wants to keep it and renovate it for you if you agree to stay with him as his wife, you know you can't stay mad at him forever. Especially not after he slides one of his rings off his finger and places it securely on yours in a silent promise and understanding between you.

You whether gonna be his wife or gonna smash up his bike, (you haven't decided yet) but in the end you gonna finally make him yours and only yours.

After all, he didn't get you back just for you to leave him again. You will stay with each other until the very end. Even if it would destroy you.

#benny cross x reader #benny cross #the bikeriders #benny the bikeriders #austin butler benny #oneshot #benny cross x y/n #benny x reader #angst #fluff #smut #actually obsessive #fools in love #jealousy #getting back together #exes #exes to lovers #inspired by taylor swift #kind of kidnapping

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lover-of-mine · 13 days ago

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Thoughts on their wardrobe for that scene?

Oh, baby, so many thoughts.

Okay, so, I'm intrigued about a bunch of things about their clothes. The neutral colors are interesting because the grey is usually attached to Buck freaking out, see 612 on eddies kitchen or 804 when Buck is freaking out about Gerrard.

But Buck has been wearing more sepia tones, especially attached to Tommy and the breakup, so I'm very interested in that grey.

But like, shades matter, so I'm also looking at the blue tint of that grey, the charcoal feeling, it adds to the whole search for his blue, because Buck needs to go back to that feeling of the coming out scene and the acceptance of his feelings and all of the blue attached to his bisexuality.

Because something that happened s7 and 8 is that we aren't seeing Buck in the bright colors we come to associate with him, like, the only fully red outfit he had was the cowbow costume, so the lack of colors as he goes through this is very fun to me, because the second he's back in those brighter tones, we'll know he got it right.

And obviously, how baggy his clothes are is something to take note, before the bisexuality of it all his clothes were too tight, now they're too baggy, because he still hasn't gotten it right. I'm telling you, the second we see him in a well fitted top that's the same shade of blue as the coming out scene, I'm gonna go into cardiac arrest.

And the black tanktop with Eddie, is mostly tied to some internal turmoil? Like when Chris is lying to him in 604. Which adds to the way he clearly doesn't want to move.

Also, with my running theory that Eddie is looking for color (read more here, but it's attached to the blue and yellow theory tag on that here) to have Eddie back in black like he was for most of s7 is a CHOICE. He's clearly ignoring what he actually needs.

Also, the fit of Eddie's jeans is just wrong, like, respectfully what did they do to Ryan's ass, so the fact that both of them are in clothes that fit wrong is telling about the way they don't want to do this.

The fact that it is the color combo of the gym confrontation is a big thing for me here too because the gym is about buck not letting eddie in but then they get to that point where buck dives head first, so to have the separation call back to that feeling has me 👀

You didn't ask, but something else I'm thinking about is the rain. Eddie specifically was tied to the sun last season. To wait for it to rain in LA for them to film this is madness.

And considering on going buddie theories, like the construction on sunset, to separate them in the rain is INSANE. Not only because other times it rained on the show, aka the well and the lighting, aka MAJOR buddie developments, and their general connection to water, it literally opens the possibility for buddie getting together in the sunrise for real. This is literally the stuff of dreams.

#911 #911 spoilers #anon 😌#i really need a tag for asks #911 meta #911 speculation #buddie #clearly going through it

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evilminji · 1 year ago

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...Wait. ACTUALLY???

The Portal is basically a doorway right? Big ol solid and sustained gateway from Realm A to Universe B? Unlike the brief blips of natural portals?

As IN... a Ring could therefore, theoretically, send out it's Search For Willpower. EXE vibes? Hit the portal -> go THROUGH the portal -> and continue expanding as the search continued until it hit a Confirmed Match(tm)?

You know... somebody INCREDIBLY SUPER LIKELY to match? Like... say... a Dead Green Lantern who? Had the WILL to continue on as a Ghost? Probably would get priority over any untested "new" Lantern candidates? Since they are somehow both in the system and not?

Recognized, yet a different species somehow?

The Rings records mark them deceased. Yet here they are, without a Ring. Which they OBVIOUSLY need, as Lanterns. Because once a Lantern, always a Lantern. Nyooom~ off it goes.

Off? Probably a whole SHIT TON of them go. Like? A truely, TRUELY alarming amount.

Think hundreds of thousands, suddenly wrenching themselves free of their stands and SHOOTING into the sky. Yes, a few at a time is normal. Day in, day out. Hundreds a day.

Not upwards of millions.

Not all at once.

A SEA of green orbs shooting up into the night sky like shooting stars. So many it chokes the sky. Drives everything to a stand still. All of them going the same direction. Some... EVENT... has just happened and no one knows what it is.

You have no choice but to follow them. Figure out where they are going and what's DRAWING them. You fly for weeks. Take shifts, following them. Alarm countless innocent people and more then a few governments.

It's....? Earth? Fuck. Of COURSE it had to be that God forsaken rock. EVERYTHING seems to come from there! Do you have ANY IDEA how many Lanterns they have stationed there by now? Multiple times the amount ENTIRE QUADRENTS usually take.

Why is it ALWAYS that planet?? Someone call Hal and his merry band of migraines. They're coming in hot. And NO, we CANT stop them. Don't bother asking. We ALSO have no idea where they're headed.

Think about being in Amity. Quiet day for once. You don't trust it. Something gonna happen, you can FEEL it.

A ring shoots past you. Then another. And another. Then dozens. Hundreds. THOUSANDS. Green, glowing, and like they were shot from a gun. The sky hailing ghost jewelry because God hate Amity specifically, apparently, and FUCK your premiums. You dive for your car.

Watch, baffled, at the Fenton house is SWARMED. The local crack pots are trying to shoot at RINGS. Failing to hit a single one. The swarm organized, writhing, and gracefully ALIVE somehow.

Aliens shoot past your car. They're wearing LANTERN get ups. Fighting the local crackpots. The sky is FULL of Lanterns now. Oh god, first Ghosts, now Aliens. Your mother was right. You SHOULD have stayed in Ohio with her sister.

The Rings break the Fenton's door down. The clattering is CACOPHONOUS as they push and shove to race inside. You watch the doorway. Some instinct telling you not to look away. Even as Lanterns and crazy people are shooting at each other not yards away.

Watch. The. Door.

Ghosts come back out. ALIEN Ghosts. Wearing LANTERN rings. Your jaw drops as they just... just KEEP coming. Every last one of them wearing a ring. You struggle to remember how many there WERE. As the sky turns GREEN. As Amity truely DOES become the most haunted place... anywhere.

You're pretty sure in the oceans of GREEN you spot the Justice League. You DEFINITELY spot Phantom. Thank god. No Spooks ever get away with shady nonsense on HIS watch, so whatever happening? 'S gonna get sorted.

And JUST? As you think... maybe, JUST maybe... you could just? Inch your car into drive, and sloooowly get the fuck out of whatever THIS mess it? Those white suited crazy people from the Feds show up and start trying to ARREST the SPACE COPS. For not letting them take unprovoked attacks on OTHER Space Cops!

Oh Shit(tm).

@hdgnj @ailithnight @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #green lantern #what is a ghost but a being MADE of Will #they didnt RETIRE they DIED #they want their god damned jobs back #didnt you die?#yeah i got better

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 2 months ago

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I recently rewatched Mouthwashing (thanks to CoryxKenshin being back like the king he is) and going through the tag again and I think everyone's missing like, one big thing with Anya. Specifically due to people not realizing just how long they were all stuck there.

tw under the cut for... everything that happens to Anya in this game.

More specifically, TW: sexual assault, pregnancy, abortion, miscarriage, suicide.

Anya was not still pregnant when she died.

I kinda figured this was common knowledge but I keep seeing people like... assume she was dying while still pregnant, and the thing is. It doesn't track at all.

When Anya asks Curly how much longer they'll be in space, and she depressedly realizes it will be eight months, that's cause she already knows she's pregnant by that point. Human pregnancy is roughly nine months, if you weren't aware, and women tend to realize they're pregnant at about 2-3 months. AKA: she's realizing she has no chance of an abortion. Clearly they don't have the medical tools for a safe one on the ship, and they're not going to leave the ship for eight months. By that time, the kid will be born. Even if miraculously she's still pregnant by the time they land and she can get a late-late-term abortion, even if she gives the kid up for adoption, she still has to be pregnant, on a ship that barely has the tools for the survival of five healthy people, with her rapist's baby, for eight months. And again, that's not going to happen; she's already 2-3 months along at that point, the kid would probably be born in the med bay.

I think that's also part of why Jimmy freaked out. The "taking responsibility" could be seen as him having to take responsibility for a kid, but the way I always read it, it was that once they landed, there would be zero chance that Jimmy could deny he'd slept with Anya. DNA tests are accurate now, I'm sure in our far future where we can space-travel it's gotten even better. His best case scenario would be her not pressing charges or claiming it was consensual and then he'd have to either help raise the kid or pay child support when he clearly can't even afford to take care of himself AND he just lost his job. But that's again, the best case. What I think he knew would be more likely to happen would be that she would admit what had happened to her, the baby would serve as proof, and whether Curly backed him up or not, Swansea and Daisuke were less fond of him and less loyal to him respectively. If they testified that they didn't see any consensual relationship going on, or if they testified about him harassing her or worse, that'd be three-against-two, and that's assuming Curly would back him up on the basis of them being friends. Curly claimed to Jimmy that he was going to figure it out for them, and his efforts to appease Jimmy over protecting Anya are what caused this shitstorm to happen, but he's also a professional who isn't very inclined to dishonesty from what we've seen of him.

Jimmy, I think, knew that. He knew that "taking responsibility" wasn't just "for the kid you brought into the world," it would be "for the crime you committed." If the MouthwashingVerse society is similar enough to ours, he would be arrested and charged, probably jailed, and put on a sex offender registry, which would severely limit his job prospects once he got out of incarceration. If the society is better than ours, he might get longer jail time and worse punishments then we see for rapists in our world. And if it's worse, there's still physical proof that Jimmy created a kid and he'd be expected to take care of it. But I think the former options are the more likely, and why Jimmy was so willing to die rather than take responsibility. It wasn't "I would rather die than be a father," it was "I would rather die than face consequences for my crimes." Let's also not forget that in storytelling, babies are basic metaphors for the future. Jimmy does not want to face his future, so he kills it for everyone.

But with the crash, back to my main point: Anya would've been 2-3 months pregnant by the time of the crash. They survive five months on the asteroid before everyone dies. I know this game is low-poly, but does Anya look 7-8 months pregnant to you? The game has enough polygons to make Swansea plus-sized, so you'd think it wouldn't be that hard to make an alternate Anya model. But she not only doesn't look pregnant, not a single other character mentions a pregnancy in their laundry list of current problems. It's not exactly easy to hide when you're seven months pregnant.

It's most likely that Anya miscarried early on in the crash. If the crash itself didn't do it– which it probably did– the next five months of limited food, high-stress, and no medication would do it.

Why am I bringing this up? I keep seeing people assume that Anya's suicide was then in her last-ditch effort to not have to birth her rapist's baby. An attempt to take control back of her own body. But there isn't a baby by then. Anya hasn't been pregnant for a while. I think it's a little scary for people to try turning her suicide into her triumphing over Jimmy, when part of the horror of the story is how everyone's deaths were tragic and avoidable. Anya did not kill herself to avoid being pregnant, she killed herself because she was traumatized and suicidal and didn't see a future for her or anyone on the ship.

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #anya mouthwashing #mouthwashing anya #wrong organ #mine #rape m /#abortion m /#miscarriage m /

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thelegend2t · 27 days ago

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BFDI Theory: The Unluckiest Number

Or story starts the video "X Finds Out His Value" at 3:27

Four and X have just figured out that X's value is 7, leading them and Seven to have a little dance party sort of thing. But after X proudly proclaims his value, 7, Four adds that "It's lucky too!"

And we get some less than happy faces from the peanut gallery. One and Three standing beside each other to form the infamous unlucky number 13. In fact, 13 is kind of an interesting number when it comes to Algebraliens.

This is the BFDI Wiki's list of every Algebralien (That is a rational number), notice anything? That's right! 13 isn't there! And this list doesn't leave any number out if it can help it. Eleven, Twelve and Sixteen have never had any significant role in any skit or episode. Thirteen is missing from the official roster of numbers.

Also as a "Sans is a near anagram for Ness" level detail: TPOT 13 is when One herself says "Entree over. Now onto the main course." and as the line suggests, is when One picks up the pace in terms of intervening in TPOT.

I believe that the number 13 is not just unlucky in a superstitious sense, but also if any Algebralien were to become Thirteen the result would be catastrophic, bringing bad luck wherever they went. And that's exactly what One and Three did.

In the first episode of TPOT Winner asks, on the topic of prime numbers, "Are those, like, illegal where you're from?". And while they're obviously not this could be foreshadowing that there is a specific prime number that IS illegal, due to, y'know, bad-luck related catastrophe.

I don't just believe this explains why there's no Thirteen, but I also believe this is why One and Three are where they are.

In the video "Thanks for 2,000,000 Subscribers!" we get a good look at the law enforcement system on Algebralien society, mainly that there is none. There are no police, possibly no government. Any sort of jail sentence or punishment for crime is carried out by the community as a whole. We see this with Fourteens punishment, he's not arrested by police, he's apprehended by his neighbors who seem to hold no special status of any kind.

Now, if we put our heads together maybe we can think of any Algebraliens that are locked in a cell, presumably, by other Algebraliens. I think at one point both One and Three were kept in cells, but as of now only Three remains imprisoned.

Many have speculated that Three closing their own cell is telling that they wish to finish their sentence due to the guilt of their actions, and I agree, and I think those actions were them being one half of the duo known as Thirteen. (One half of 13 is 3, you heard it here first folks!.)

But One is a lot more bold. They're not content with being held down or people having more power than them. Being a part of Thirteen came with it this great power which they wish to return to. And besides, as long as someone is staffing their jail cell, that's just one more person to manipulate.

But who did she manipulate? The answer may surprise you, but it also may not, I don't know how many people actually watched the subscriber milestone videos.

In the video "Thanks for 1,000,000 subscribers!" at 7:50, we see Seven say this:

Seven considers One to be their BFF, presumably standing for "Best Friend Forever". Now, Seven as a character has been consistently portrayed as having no friends at all. In the song "Counting on Christmas" sung by the Algebraliens, Seven explicitly states that they "really, really, really want some friends".

Seven is sort of the black sheep of the community, though still, they ARE part of the community. As such, they are also part of the group that decides who is to be in jail, and who is to be free. And if all it takes is the promise of friendship then One escaping that cell was well within her range of capabilities. Who knows, maybe the friendship was in some way genuine, but the end result is the same, Seven let One free and even now sees nothing wrong with their friendship.

So that leaves us with this. One is actively trying to free Three, but Three is still patiently waiting in their cell for their lawful sentence to expire. Which... is kinda what everyone has been saying already, yeah, I'm not exactly the first to theorize that One is trying to free Three. What I am doing however, is laying out how I believe all these puzzle pieces fit together.

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jewishvitya · 9 months ago

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Haaretz did this:

The full thing is under the cut, in case this link is paywalled for other people. The actual text has blocked out portions as well, to highlight what it's like to report on cases of administrative detention.

Highlights:

Like all administrative detention hearings, it was held in-camera, to obscure the fact that detainees' lawyers do their job without access to the facts of the case. Even the few details that are not secret are prohibited for publication. The administrative detention order was approved in full for a period of six months

And

In the past, it was considered, at least officially, a measure reserved for the most extreme of cases. This hypocritical position has always been false, but now there is no longer any need to save face. According to the Israeli army's own data, almost 5,000 arrests were made in the West Bank in the past eight months. These are very conservative numbers, as they don't include the many thousands arrested and released without being indicted.

The data shows that administrative detention, this so-called extreme of extremes, is now the norm. According to Israeli Prison Service numbers, Israel now holds 7016 people who have not yet been convicted in its jails – either awaiting trial or under administrative detention. Of these, 4,299 – more than 60%! – are held without charge or trial. And all that is without saying a single word about the torture, hunger and humiliation to which all Palestinian prisoners held by Israel are subjected these days.

Administrative detention is based on secret suspicions, secret evidence and no charges being brought. To conceal its inherent absurdity, hearings are held in-camera and away from the public eye. As such, even the little that is revealed to the defense remains prohibited for publication.

On the morning of October 29, after a short farewell to his wife Nariman and their kids, Bassem Tamimi left his home in the West Bank village of Nabi Saleh, north of Ramallah, and started heading east toward the Allenby Bridge. He was on his way to visit relatives in Jordan he had not seen in a long time. A little after 11 A.M., Nariman received a message saying, "The secret police asked for me. I'll write when it's over." And then, shortly after 3 P.M., a call: "I am being arrested. They're coming to take the phone. Have to go. Bye."

This, unfortunately, was not Bassem's first encounter with Israeli law. His village, Nabi Saleh, has waged a multi-year campaign of civil resistance against land grabs and settlement expansion. As a prominent activist, he was incarcerated repeatedly for his role as a protest leader, part of Israel's attempt to quell dissent.

In the evening, the phone rang again. The woman on the line introduced herself, saying she lived in Silwan and was currently at the Hadassa hospital in Jerusalem. She then went on to say that Bassem was there, surrounded by soldiers. He was taken there after his blood pressure soared dangerously. Nariman could faintly hear Bassem's voice over the line saying, "I'm fine, don't worry, everything's good." After a few more hours, at night, that same woman sent a picture of Bassem in the ER, undergoing a checkup; his hand bound with ziptie cuffs. That was the last time Nariman heard from him. Save for a single short lawyer visit before Eid al-Fitr in April, no one has been in contact with him since.

Four days after his arrest, police ████, ████ ████: "███████ ███ ████ █████ ███ ████████, ██████, █████? "███████ ███ ██████: "████ ███ ██████." And that was that. Eight days later – the maximum time afforded to the authorities by article 33 of Israel's military law in the West Bank before a detainee must be presented before a judge (who also is a soldier in uniform) – a six-month administrative detention order was issued, which did not suggest any specific allegations, but rather only a very general statement regarding ███████ ██ █ ███████ .

Eleven more days later, the Kafkaesque proceedings of judicial review over the order took place. Some of it was held ex-parte between the soldier-judge and the Shin Bet. Like all administrative detention hearings, it was held in-camera, to obscure the fact that detainees' lawyers do their job without access to the facts of the case. Even the few details that are not secret are prohibited for publication. The administrative detention order was approved in full for a period of six months, until April 28.

Administrative detention, however, is not really bound by the limits of time, and can be extended indefinitely. And indeed, as the six months passed, a new six-month order was signed, citing the same meaningless cause of ██████ ████ █ ██████ ██ █. This time however, and unlike the state of affairs in almost any other administrative detention case, the defense had a pretty good insight into the details of the case. Administrative detention is such a mundane phenomenon in Israeli military courts, that , , , .

A few hours prior to Bassem's arrest, Israeli forces arrested █████ █ ████ █ ██████ ███ ██��██ █ ████████ ███ ███, Bassem's friend from their days together in Israeli jail at the beginning of the millennium. Then too, under administrative detention. ██████ ███ █████ █ ███ ████ ███ ███ ██████ █ ██ █████ █ ███ █████ ███ ███ █ ███ ███ ████, █ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ████ █ █ ███ █████ ██ ██ ██ ██ ███ ████ █ ███ █████ ███ ███ █████ ███ ████ █ ███. █████ ███ ███ █████ ███ █████ █ ███, █████ ███ ███ ███ ███ ███ █████ █ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████? █ █████ ██ ███ ███. ██ ███ ██ ███ █ ██ █████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ █████ █ █████ ███ ███ ██████ ███ █████.

█ ████ ███ ███ ███ █████ ███ █████ █ ████ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████ █ ████ ██ ███, ██████ ███ █████ █ ███ ████ ███ ███ ████ ███ █████ █ ██ ███ ███ ███ ███ ██ ███ ███ █ "██████ ███ ███ ████ ███ ████ █ ██████ ███ ███? █████ ███ █████ █ ████ ███ ███ █████ ███ ████ █ ███████ ███." ███ ██████ ███ ████ █ ███ ███ ███ ██ ███ █████ █ ██████ ███ ███ 25 ███ ██ █████ █ ███████ ████, long after the administrative detention order against Bassem was reviewed and approved by the court, ██████ was unconditionally released.

On his release, ██████ contacted Nariman and told her what had happened, thinking that his release must also mean Bassem should soon follow. This is how the defense learned the details it knows, and not through discovery by the prosecution. Even though there is no gag order on ██████ ██████'s case, discussing its details in conjunction with Bassem's administrative detention is prohibited for publication. Despite everything that was revealed – and that is the nature of administrative detention: there can always be more hidden evidence, secret, almost mystical – Bassem is still being held under administrative detention even now. Almost two weeks after the hearing, ███ █ ██ ██████ ██████ ████████ █████ █ █████ █ █████, the judge partially confirmed the second administrative detention order against Bassem in violation of military law provisions, ████████ ████ █ ███ █ ███████ ███ █ ████████.

Like Bassem, thousands more are held captive by Israel under administrative detention. In the past, it was considered, at least officially, a measure reserved for the most extreme of cases. This hypocritical position has always been false, but now there is no longer any need to save face. According to the Israeli army's own data, almost 5,000 arrests were made in the West Bank in the past eight months. These are very conservative numbers, as they don't include the many thousands arrested and released without being indicted.

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taivanhq · 19 days ago

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A Comprehensive ICE Encounter Guide.

So, because of a recent uptick in ICE raids and Trump removing pretty much all remaining protection for immigrants, I've decided to compile a bunch of research and resources to help you know your rights. Specifically to combat the risky and even down right dangerous advice going around. Knowing your rights whether you're an immigrant or not is important, and can enable you to help your friends, family and community.

Disclaimer: I am not your lawyer, do your own research! Especially if you or your family are high risk (visibly BIPOC).

Firstly, what to do if you are stopped by ICE or Police.

Stay calm.

Don't resist.

Keep your hands visible at all times.

Memorise important phone numbers (family, lawyer), or keep them on you at all times.

Do NOT lie about your status.

Carry your immigration papers or ID on you at all times.

Some states require that you give your name to law enforcement if they ask for it, know your states laws, and do not lie.

If you're asked to show your immigration papers, you must if you have them on you.

Do not say anything to them, do not sign anything, do not make decisions without lawyers. Exercise your right to silence.

If you are without your papers, EXERCISE YOUR RIGHT TO SILENCE, say "I would like to remain silent until i speak to a lawyer."

If you're arrested by police, you have the right to a free government appointed attorney. If you're arrested by ICE, you have the right to an attorney but not a free government one, so you should ask for a free or low cost list of attorneys or already have the number for one on you.

You can say no to being searched, they do not have the right to search you without probable cause, the only exception is they may pat you down over your clothes.

If you believe your rights were violated, write down and date everything you remember as soon as you can. Badge numbers, patrol car numbers, names, agencies they're from, witnesses, and file a complaint with the relevant agencies.

What to do when ICE or the police come to your home.

Keep the door closed. It is much safer to speak to them through the door. TEACH YOUR CHILDREN THIS.

Ask: Are you immigration agents? What are you here for? Ask to see their badge through a peep hole or window, ask if they have a warrant and if they do make them slide it under the door or show you through a window.

DO NOT open the door unless they show you a search or arrest warrant signed by a judge specifically naming someone residing in your property or the specific areas to be searched at that specific address. You can find samples of warrants here.

A police arrest warrant allows them to enter the home if they believe that the person is inside BUT a warrant for deportation DOES NOT allow officers to enter the home without consent.

If they do not produce a warrant, or the warrant is just for deportation, say "I do not consent to your entry."

If they force their way in anyways, do not resist. Repeat "I do not consent to your entry or to your search of these premises, I am exercising my right to remain silent, I wish to speak to a lawyer."

Do not lie.

Do not produce false documents.

And do not talk to them or sign anything until you get a lawyer.

Once again, If you believe your rights were violated, write down and date everything you remember as soon as you can. Badge numbers, patrol car numbers, names, agencies they're from, witnesses, and file a complaint with the relevant agencies. In this case, camera footage from home cameras can also be extremely useful, make sure any relevant footage is saved and copied onto several devices.

What to do when ICE or the police come to your work/school/church.

If you're a US citizen and feel safe doing so, record the activity or immediately write down information on what you witnessed, but do not interfere or obstruct the operation. This can include yelling, running, throwing things, and so on.

If you are a citizen, ICE do not have the right to detain, arrest or question you. If they do, tell them you are a US citizen, ask for their name and badge number and say you wish to remain silent until you talk to a lawyer. Then talk to that lawyer about filing a lawsuit for fines and monetary damages. Seriously.

Do not run.

Do not carry false documents.

Say you wish to remain silent and speak to a lawyer.

Do not speak or sign anything until you talk to a lawyer.

Carry a "red card."

In all scenarios, especially for non-English speakers, it's a good idea to carry a know your rights card. The immigrant legal resource center has printable red cards with guidance on it and you can hand it to an officer of any kind and on the back, in English it invokes your right to silence and to a lawyer. This can be presented to the Police or ICE in any situation. Printable versions of these cards in many different languages can be found here. Keep your paperwork and these cards on you and your family, especially your children at all times. Spread the existence of these cards on your social media and in your communities.

The best thing you can do as an immigrant, for you and your family, is just be prepared. For US citizens and those unlikely to be targeted, it's to provide aid and record injustices and violations of rights. But with that, it is so important you do not spread false information or dangerous advice, or misreport any ICE sightings. Local immigrant resource organizations are creating hotlines that the public can report ice sightings to, and they have social media pages too. Find your local one online, and you can get the most accurate information from them. Report any ICE sightings you see to them, too. Spread their existences on your social media and in your communities. But most importantly, stick together and do not let this hard time define our futures. As my favourite poem goes, "You may write me down in history With your bitter twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise."

Resources: printable red cards iamerica know your rights cards know your rights, immigrant justice know your rights, aclu

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theangrycomet-art · 4 months ago

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TFA Redesigns Part 2: ft Team Athenia, the "new" Protectobots and Rescue Force Sigma-17

Part 1

still annoyed that drew i drew team athenia is facing the wrong way

COMMISSIONS OPEN:

Random Lore Dump Ramblings Below the Cut:

Team Athenia is not disbanded, but they are stationed back on cybertron security while Rodimus recovers from the Cosmic Rust

Rodimus is a terrible patient and keeps trying to sneak out of the hospital and get back to work (not that he's very successful considering the damage hems undergone; there's been talk of a total reframe and that kind of scares of him)

Red Alert (as second command and technically now in-charge of the team) is VERY stressed out and struggling not to fall back into old habits and paranoia (it doesn't help that one of her conjuxes is MIA too)

Ironhide is NOT joining the Earth Team but he did visit there with Hot Shot checking a lead on an old bootcamp buddy, where he picked up his new alt mode

Brawn is... well if you ask him he says he's fine but he's as stressed as Red Alert about everything going on without a nice outlet of 'con bashing to let it out with

The Protectobots' were picked more off their frametypes then their skillsets; Sentinel got REALLY lucky there that these guys are all highly competent, quick learners

They were all required to get new paint jobs with a white base with single color accents, with the exception of First Aid (who already met the color requirements) and Hot Spot (who had the reverse- single color base with white accents)

First Aid is putting his 200% into Ultra Magnus' recovery because he does NOT want to be Sentinel's poster boy. These mechs are nice but First Aid is a doctor not some mascot. It's hard enough being taken seriously as is.

Streetwise was actually partners with Chase. In contrast to the latter's by the book attitude, he was more focused on working with people to keep them out of trouble.

Blades was another "expendable" "volunteer" for the Aerialbot project after getting bashed in treating a patient in field. (His previous frame being the same mold of Ironhide and Ratchet.) Unlike the Twins, he is not taking his forced frame change with much grace, a bit divided between fear of his new body/being forced to use it and fury for what was done to him...

Hot Spot, the unofficial "leader" of the protectobots, is trying to keep a cheerful outlook with the group of mech's he's been assigned. Honestly, he liked his previous job better, but this can't end up THAT bad, right?

Groove is the only one that signed up for the protectobots, even if he was technically trying to apply for a traveling permit to explore more organic planets with his buddy Boulder. He's testing the waters to see whether he's gonna stick around or not.

NGL, I don't really have too many ideas for the Rescuebots in TFA pre-Earth beyond "and they did their specific jobs very well" sort of thing

Chase wasn't very popular amongst his fellow cops because he was such a stickler about the rules and didn't hesitate to report any misconduct amongst his peers (taking bribes, initiating a search without a warrant, arresting without a warrant, etc.)

Heatwave and Hot Spot both trained under Inferno (Hot Spot may or may not have had a tiny, miniscule crush on his barrack buddy while they were training...)

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5ummit · 2 years ago

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So there's this post with a troubling number of notes going around insisting that "dead dove" is not a genre, it doesn't inherently have anything to do with darkfic, and that the tag could be applied to fics that are "100% fluffy where everyone's having a good time" if they happen to contain some abnormal (though entirely non-problematic) content like an unusual kink. The claim is that "dead dove: do not eat" is simply a "courtesy tag" that means "this is a very specific niche, mind the tags." And that's just... wrong.

I wrote up a whole rebuttal to this post since I can't stand misinformation and frankly OP was being kinda rude and judgey on top of their wrongness. But right after I posted my reply, OP turned off reblogs because, and I quote, “some fuckwad added some dumb shit onto this post and it is no longer educational” (the “fuckwad” being me and the “dumb shit” being proof that they were wrong). A couple people have asked me to make a rebloggable version of my response, which I've decided to do because this isn't the first time I've heard similar claims and I want to help set the record straight. However, I'm not linking the original post on the off chance this gains traction because OP did the right thing by turning off reblogs, preventing it from circulating further, and I don't want them to get hate for being unfortunately misinformed.

For those who don't know the history, "dead dove: do not eat" was originally proposed as a catchall "hydra trash party" alternative label for any fandom to warn that the content of a fic may be considered problematic or potentially upsetting and to read the tags carefully so you know what you're getting into and won't complain later. Specifically, DD:DNE was intended to convey that the Bad Things in the fic would likely be reveled in and not explicitly condemned by the narrative, which some people tend to get up in arms about, hence the need for the extra warning in addition to the tags. Don't believe me? Here's the original proposal (note DD:DNE can be found on a handful of fics dated before 2015 but this is when it really took off and became a Thing).

There are currently around 50,000 fics tagged as "dead dove: do not eat" on AO3 and close to 50% of those also include the rape/noncon warning (which of course is not the only type of "dead dove" but is one of the most popular and most consistently tagged). The normal percentage of noncon fics in any given fandom? Around 1-3%. That's a HUGE disparity. So don't tell me that dead dove is just a general "courtesy tag" and doesn't or shouldn't have dark connotations. Even the context of the original joke on Arrested Development has a dark undertone. Micheal Bluth casually finds an animal carcass in a bag in his refrigerator with the label "do not eat", as if eating it would be any sane person's first thought. The whole situation is kinda fucked up. And this fucked up vibe very much carries over into fandom usage too, as was intended.

The claim that dead dove has nothing to do with the content's genre and could just as easily be used to describe a 100% fluffy fic in which everyone's having a good time is straight up Wrong, or at the very least, severely warping the original meaning. Also, when someone these days says that they like/dislike "dead dove" most people in fandom automatically understand what that means because of the consistency of its usage over the years and the way language evolves. Whether you like it or not, "dead dove" IS a genre now and the term does carry a specific connotation. I do agree that DD:DNE should definitely still be used in conjunction with other tags, when applicable, to be explicit about the exact type of fucked up content you may find, but to say that the term is meaningless on its own is patently false and I'm tired of people who don't know what they're talking about pushing this narrative and causing even more confusion.

You want a generic term that also means "mind the tags" and doesn't have any inherently dark connotations? Just use good ol' "what it says on the tin" instead of trying to force dead dove to be something it's not.

#fyi I've tweaked my response slightly to remove specific references to OP and make it read better on its own #I hope I don't regret making this post and inviting The Discourse #but dead dove is a topic that is very near and dear to me #I feel like someone has got to say something and put a stop to all of the misinformation around it these days #fandom #long post #my words #psa #wendy's help desk

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novamariestark · 6 months ago

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A Dangerous Game - H.V

Summary: You get brought into interrogation as a potential suspect in a murder. You get a little... playful, when your lover is one of the ones questioning you.

Warnings: age gap, smut, unprotected sex (wrap b4 you tap), public sex (i guess), pet names, handcuffs, oral (f receiving), proofread (but i always find a mistake that a ghost wrote after I post 🤣)

Word count: 2437

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x reader

[A/N] as promised 😁 Happy Smut Saturday everyone

At first, you took it seriously. I mean, why on earth would you want to be arrested for a murder you didn’t commit? But as soon as he walked in the room, looking as deliciously fuckable as he did this morning, you just couldn’t think of anything else but fucking him in this very room, on this very table.

"I don't know what to tell you, man," you said, your fingers dancing on the table. Two men were sat opposite you. One of them you didn't know and the other was your man, your lover. Maybe you could finally live out one of your fantasies. All you needed was the other guy to leave the room. And you had an idea on how to do that, "I was getting a good dicking at the time of the murder," you giggled.

The stranger's eyes widened, and he coughed, obviously not expecting such bluntness. But Hank Voight, the man you were referring to, remained stoic. He obviously knew exactly what you meant. He had been the one giving you that 'good dicking'. He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. God you loved those arms. of course, the only thing that would make it better was no shirt, when those very arms are wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him whilst he’s pounding into you relentlessly.

You think back to that morning, before work, riding him on the couch, you just couldn’t help it. He was a drug, and you were addicted to it. Your thighs clamp shut as you remember how good he’d made you feel, how good he always makes you feel. Your bottom lip subconsciously sucked in between your teeth as you looked at him. His eyes never left yours, challenging you to keep it up. And you took that challenge. You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper, "It was... so good,"

The room was silent except for the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you. The other detective, clearly uncomfortable, shifted in his seat. He had been trying to ignore the tension from the moment Hank walked into the room, the way your eyes lit up when you looked his way, the way Hank's jaw clenched every time you spoke. It was more than just a suspect's usual taunting; it was a game to you.

"Alright, Miss...," the stranger began, flipping through his notes, "Miss (y/l/n). Could you be a bit more...specific?"

"You sure you can handle that?" you asked, moving to rest your arms on the table, a sweet smile on your face. When you didn't get a reply, you continued, "Okay, well it started with me on my knees for him, he loves that. Just as much as I love being on my knees," you whispered, your eyes locked on Hank's, "Anyway, he then wanted to taste me so, I lay down on the couch..."

The detective's cheeks reddened, and he cleared his throat, flipping his notebook shut. "I'm going to get some coffee," he mumbled, standing up and practically sprinting out of the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Hank stood, his palms flat on the table, hovering over you, "What do you think you're playing at?"

"You know I'm innocent," you smiled, looking up at him with doe eyes, you then bit your lip again, "Well, innocent of murder," you whispered, your voice a tantalizing purr.

Hank's expression didn't change. "I know you are," he replied, his voice a low rumble.

"Is anyone behind the glass?" you asked, your gaze flicking towards the one-way mirror behind him.

"(y/v), how did you know King?" Hank asked, his tone firm, ignoring your question.

"This table seems very sturdy," you said, your eyes never leaving Hank's as you leaned back into your chair, crossing your legs. You could feel the heat of his stare on you, his anger simmering just below the surface. You knew you were pushing his buttons, but you enjoyed every second.

"(y/n)," he growled, his voice a sound of warning. "Don't play games with me."

"I thought you loved playing with me, Daddy?" your smile widened, voice dripping with innocence.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured, leaning closer.

"What you gonna do about it, Sergeant?" you asked, moving into a position where he had a better line of sight to your breasts.

His head dropped, his line of sight to the table, his eyes shut tight as he tries not to let you get to him, any more than you already had, "You're a suspect in a murder investigation,"

"What do you do to the ones who don't talk?" you asked, moving your finger to rest on your bottom lip as you looked up at him, the same look you give him when you’ve got him deep in your mouth. Hank's jaw clenched even tighter, "You get a little rough?"

The tension was palpable in the air, thick and heavy like the fog before a storm. Hank leaned in closer, his breath hot on your neck, "(y/n), you're pushing it," he warned, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"Am I?" you teased, reaching out your hand to run it down his chest, "I thought you liked it when I'm...difficult."

Hank's grip on the table tightened, his knuckles turning white. "You know I do," he murmured, his voice low and gruff, "But not here,"

"You don't want to punish me for being a bad girl?" you whispered, your voice the sexy bratty tone that he loved, "You don't want to handcuff me to the table and fuck the brat out of me?"

Hank took a step back, his eyes darkening with every word that you spoke. You smirked because you couldn't help the way his body responded to your words, "You're not making this easy on yourself," he said through gritted teeth.

Your smile never wavered, "Since when have I ever wanted easy?" you challenged.

Hank's eyes narrowed.

Suddenly, Hank's hand shot out, yanking you out of the chair and pressed you against the table, your breasts flattening against the steel, you heart racing as his handcuffs clamped around one wrist, around a leg of the table and snapped around the other wrist. He was quick, efficient, and surprisingly gentle despite the force behind his actions. He knew you liked it rough, but he would never be too rough with you. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he leaned in, his mouth hovering above your ear, "This what you wanted, baby girl?"

Your body responded immediately to the command in his voice. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the hardness of his thighs pressing into you. "Yes, Daddy, please" you breathed, your voice stuttered whisper.

Hank's grip on your neck tightened, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just behind your ear. "You know I'd never leave you needy, sweetheart," he murmured. He pulled you closer, his free hand sliding around your waist to the small of your back, pressing you against his body. You could feel his erection, straining against his pants, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. You started to move your hips, your ass rubbing against him, the friction sending a delicious ache straight to your core.

"But, Daddy," you panted, "I've been a very, very bad girl."

With a smirk, he released your neck and sat down in the chair you had been occupying moments before, pulling you closer until your ass was in his face. Without a second thought, he yanked down your pants and panties, exposing your glistening pussy to the cool air of the interrogation room, "Then I guess you need to be taught a lesson," he said, his voice deeper than usual, gruff with need. He pushed your legs apart, his hand on your waist keeping you in place.

Your breath hitched as you felt his warm breath against you, his rough hands spreading you open. You had dreamed of this moment so many times, of being at his mercy while you were handcuffed and vulnerable. Your body responded immediately, your legs quivering as he began to feast on you, his tongue delving into your folds, tasting your sweetness. You couldn't help but moan, your hips bucking against his mouth as he devoured you, his teeth nipping at your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and his muffled growls of pleasure as he ate you out, his tongue swirling and lapping, his nose pressed against your ass as he held you in place. You could feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your stomach, your toes curling. Hank knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you scream.

Your handcuffed wrists were starting to ache, but the pain only heightened your pleasure. You pushed back harder, your body begging for more, your moans growing louder. Hank's grip on your waist tightened, his other hand reaching up under your shirt to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. The dual sensation of pleasure and pain pushing you closer to the edge.

As you reached the peak, your legs began to shake, your moans turning into screams that were muffled by the tabletop. Hank didn't let up, his tongue flicking and probing, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh until you came, your body convulsing against the table. He still didn't stop, though, not until you were a trembling mess, panting and gasping for air.

Slowly, he stood up, his eyes as dark as the night. The sound of his belt being unbuckled behind you was the only sound in the room. The wait was driving you wild, your body trembling with need. He was deliberately making you wait but pretty soon he couldn’t take his own torture.

With one swift movement, Hank yanked your hips back and slammed into you, filling you completely and making you cry out. The force of his thrusts was intense, pushing your body against the table, the metal handcuffs biting into your wrist. But you didn't care. You wanted this, you needed this.

He smacked your ass, the sound off the walls of the small room, leaving a sting that only added to the pleasure. You pushed back against him, urging him to go harder, faster, deeper. Your moans grew louder, mixing with his grunts of effort and enjoyment. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he pulled you back to meet each thrust. You could feel the muscles in his arms bulging, his entire body taut with tension.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as Hank reached one hand down to your head, fisting your hair and yanking your head back, arching your back and pulling you up off the table, "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," you moaned, your eyes squeezed shut as all you could focus on was the sensations he was giving you.

He yanked your hair again, "Yes what?"

"Yes Daddy," you breathed, the words leaving your lips in a rush of pleasure as Hank's hand smacked down on your ass again. He didn't hold back, giving you the rough treatment you had been craving, his cock pounding into you with a ferocity that left you breathless.

With each thrust, the table scraped against the floor, the room filled with the symphony of your moans and the slap of flesh against flesh. Hank's other hand was tangled in her hair, pulling her head back so he could see your face in the glass, the way your eyes rolled back in pleasure. You met his gaze in the one-way glass, and whispered, "More."

Hank didn't need any more encouragement. He pulled your hips closer, his cock slamming into you with an intensity that had you screaming his name. The pain mixed with the pleasure, creating an intoxicating cocktail that had you begging for more, that had your body writhing under his.

He leant down, tilting your head back, exposing your neck to his teeth. He bit down gently, his teeth scraping your skin as he fucked you harder, his hips slapping against your ass. You could feel the edge fast approaching, your muscles tightening around him, your pussy clenching. His grip on your hair tightened, his teeth digging in deeper, and you knew he was close too.

With a final, powerful thrust, Hank came inside you, filling you with his seed. He groaned, his body shuddering as he held you in place, his cock still pulsing. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, making your entire body spasm. Your legs gave out, but the handcuffs kept you on the table, your ass in the air with Hank's cock still deep inside you.

As you both caught your breath, Hank leaned over you, his hand still in your hair, "You ready to answer my question yet?"

You looked over your shoulder at him. As if you could remember anything right now, "What question was that?" you panted.

"How do you know King?" Hank repeated.

“He was my boyfriend in college. We had a fling, nothing serious."

Hank released your hair, letting it fall down your back in a cascade of (y/h/c) waves. He leaned back, his cock slipping out of your, and you couldn't help the slight wince as the loss of his warmth left you feeling empty. He leaned over you and unfastened the handcuffs, freeing you from the cold embrace of the table. He pulled your pants up, smoothing the fabric over your reddened skin. You slid down from the table, legs wobbly, and he caught you, pulling you into his lap as he sat back down in the chair.

"When was the last time you saw him?" he asked, his head resting on the top of yours as you snuggled into him.

"9-10 years ago, last I heard, he moved to New York. I don't know why he was here,"

He asks you a few more questions about King, before the two of you leave the room to find all the detectives looking your way. It was obvious they heard the moans and the screams, but none of them dare to say anything. Well, none except one.

"So, I guess you are her alibi, Sarge," Adam asked and all heads snap towards him, looking at him as though he had a death wish or something…

#female reader #reader insert #hank voight #hank voight x reader #chicago pd #daddy af

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