#the cop was super nice about it but still
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tigerseyeiris · 2 years ago
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oh also. i got pulled over on the way home from work tonight bc i had my brights on and i didn’t even realize 🙃🫠
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samarecharm · 8 months ago
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I know that peach game is like. For kids. Im SO aware of it. But its. So fucking cheap???? This is like the bloatware of nintendo games. What is going on here ???? Not to give nintendo even an ounce of credit…but they generally treat their main characters better than this. And especially after seeing mario wonder, its really obvious how poorly put together and boring this game is. Which is such a shame. Bc Super Princess Peach is right there. Go play that instead.
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childofaura · 1 year ago
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BRO DID THEY REALLY GIVE HEIDR THE FUCKING SNIDDIES.
WHAT.
And honestly this Midpoint movie is just not on par with last year's mid-point. Or Book 3's mid-point.
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leezuhh · 1 year ago
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the xenophobia in genshin is crazyyy 😭
#likeeee within the own game world u have paimon being the stupid lil 'voice' of the player thats literally just used to say rude shit#that u cant even refute.... like the worst offenders is that she straight up says shit like 'theyre fatui u cant trust them'#or 'theyre eremites u cant trust them'#like thats crazy how the two groups we 'cant trust' are based on russians and middle easterners????#anyways i like this game but i have SO many gripes about random shit like this thats bad#some really specific combat stuff annoys me#like umm why does yelan's hydro aimed shot cooldown at a set rate when not fighting but not while fighting?? why not just make it the same?#or why cant shieldwall mitachurls take damage from behind their shields if u shoot them FROM BEHIND?? the shot literally goes thru them#it just makes using ganyu super annoying bc i use her cryo construct skill to divert the enemies so i can shoot them but with shieldwalls#they turn away and then i just still cant do damage until theyre attacking?? even if theyre frozen??#hashtag just combat mechanics that dont make sense#also why tf do you sometimes just randomly lose grip on walls ur climbing and start sliding down like ?????#i always seem to go off on the tags of my own posts and never in the post itself huh. i coulda just written all this#anyways this post inspired by zhongli story quest starting with - archeologist guy who paimon immediately goes OH NO A FATUI DROP UR WEAPON#like im sorry since when are we teyvats cop?also the dude literally isnt holding a weapon which he points out but the game still makes u go#'hes fatui we have to be cautious' when the dude is nothing but nice. imagine ur doing ur job and some random girl and her floating toddler#try to fucking arrest you for literally just chilling#anyways and then the dude is like sure you can come along :) for no reason when we were just a dick#bc they have no idea how to write meaningful/realistic npcs jesus christ#sure ppl are like 'who cares its a random NPC' i care its literally so annoying and doesnt make me want to play ur stupid game#also not to mention the pyramid quest in the desert where (worst npc) tirzad is like 'we cant trust these two (his bodyguards!!) -#- because they're eremites' and yeah its whatever disproven by jebrael and jeht being the most slayful NPCs in the game#but paimon still AGREES WITH HIM?? and at that point i was like ok so this sucks but whatever but then#as if that isnt enough after jeht joins the tanit later or wtv u have to go through a whole questline that literally ends w dismantling#their entire village?? its very much reflective of rhetoric like how jeht is the 'only good one of '''them'''' aka thinly veiled racism#like oh its fine because SHE is 'one of the good ones' no fuck you wth#and no having like 2 desert npcs in the archon quest be nice doesnt make up for some of the crazy racist shit they say in the sumeru quests#umm anyways. cant wait for fontaine where the number of characters with non snow white skin will once again be reduced to 0#because they're french right and poc dont exist in france :( /s#this is probably the longest rant ive ever gone on for this game i literally paused the game to type all that 😭
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hayleythesugarbowl · 2 months ago
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hey girlyyyyy could you maybe write for Tim Bradford from the rookie and like the reader is his rookie and while they’re on patrol they run into someone who knows the reader’s abusive ex bf and he makes threats against reader and after their shift reader is super scared so he escorts them home and stays with them idk just an idea 😅
Nightlight || Tim Bradford x reader
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • john nolan fic  ⋆˚。⋆୨୧⋆
summary: when you encounter a man while on patrol who has a threatening message from your ex, your TO, Tim, offers to spend the night with you
word count: 10.4k
warnings: abusive past relationship, reader kind of has a panic attack, mild language, blood, guns, inaccurate police stuff
a/n: ahhh i had so much fun writing this, love!! i took your idea and also added some stuff so i hope you like what i did. i also apologize for the length, i kinda went wild. i imagine this to take place in s1. fem!reader. enjoy!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     “7-Adam-19, armed shoplifter, Radcliffe Complex, 718 Oscar Road. Respond.”
     The dispatcher’s voice filled the silence of the car.
     “7-Adam-19 responding.” Officer  Bradford set down the radio and replaced his hand on the steering wheel.
     “What’s the most important thing to remember when dealing with an armed shoplifter, Boot?” Tim asked you after a moment. 
     “Why did I think that when I was in short-sleeves I would get a break from your Tim Tests?” you muttered.  
     You’d been Bradford’s rookie for seven months now and some days he still treated you like it was your first day on the force. You appreciated him trying to teach you so thoroughly, but did he have to be so Tim all the time?
     “Is that your answer, Boot?” 
     “No, um, I guess it would be that he’s armed. But no, that’s too obvious for you. Ok, what about what they’re stealing? Their physical state? Keeping their hands in sight at all times?”
     Tim sighed, looking bored. “Wrong. It’s—”
     “Suspect on the move, heading east on Apple Boulevard,” came the dispatcher’s update, interrupting your TO’s answer.
     “Looks like we’re headed east,” Tim said, turning sharply in the direction you’d just come from. 
     “Saved by the suspect,” you joked. 
     “Don’t think this is over,” Tim narrowed his eyes at the road. “Lessons don’t stop for crime.”
     “Ok, batman.”
     Tim glared at you.
     “I mean, Sir.”
     After you’d first been assigned to Officer Bradford, you’d been told stories of his ruthless training style. Your first thought was that you needed to impress him from day one.
     Well, technically your first thought was damn, because you’d have to be insane not to notice how objectively attractive he was. But you’d quickly quelled that thought—crushing on your TO was not how you wanted to start your career as an officer. 
     So, impressing him was your second thought. And you had been more than a little terrified of not impressing him. 
     You would be lying if you said that wasn’t how things still were between you two, to a degree—you trying to prove yourself and him making it as difficult as possible. 
     But, at least after several months, you felt like your TO trusted you more. 
     “There!” You pointed to a man running down the street, duffel bag in hand.
     Tim hit the gas, surpassing the suspect, and skidding to a stop in front of him, effectively cutting him off. 
     You both hurried out of the car, weapons drawn on the man who was currently aiming his gun back and forth, between you and Bradford. 
     “Police! Drop your weapon!” Tim shouted at the man. 
     The man hesitated, seeming to be weighing his options—how easily he could take out two cops. 
     “Set the weapon down, nice and easy,” Tim ordered, his own gun still pointed at the suspect.”
     The man, seeming to sense the inevitability of his capture, sighed and set his gun on the ground. 
     “The answer was dialogue, by the way,” Tim addressed you, his eyes still on the suspect. “Dialogue is the most important  thing when dealing with an armed suspect.”
     “Good to know,” you acknowledged, before ordering the man in front of you. “Hands behind your head, interlace your fingers.”
     The man’s gaze shot to you as he obeyed your commands. 
     “Hey, lady cop, you look familiar,” the criminal squinted at you. 
     “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said. You’d never seen this man in your life. 
     “I swear—”
     “Hands on the car!” You ordered 
     The man reluctantly did what he was told, placing his palms on the side of the shop. 
      “Wait a minute,” the man sized you up before smirking slowly. “Your Paul Cranston’s girl, ain’t ya?”
     You felt your blood instantly run cold at the name. 
     “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said again, robotically, grabbing one of his arms. 
     “No, no I’d recognize that pretty face anywhere,” the criminal whispered. “He told me all about you. Hey, why don’t you let me go and I’ll give you a friendly tip?”
     You responded by twisting his arm behind his back even harder.
     He winced. “So you didn’t hear then? Paul’s out.”
     No. That couldn’t be true. Paul wasn’t supposed to be out for—
     “Boot, you going to cuff him or not?” Tim called impatiently.
     “Right.” You shook off the stupor and began handcuffing the suspect. Your mind was still on that name, however, and your reflexes were slowed.
     Which is how the suspect was able to rip his arm from your grip and shove you to the ground as he tried to make a break for it. 
     Tim tackled him almost immediately, wrestling him into the cuffs that were dangling on one of his wrists where you had started to restrain him, and pushing him towards the shop.
     “Wait, Paul’s got a message for you!” the man hurried out, looking only at you as Tim waked over and shoved him into the backseat. “He said you best watch yourself, because he has connections, and he still hasn’t gotten his revenge. He’s out—and he’s coming for you.”
     “That’s enough, get in the car.” Tim slammed the door shut, and the echo of it rang in your ears as the man’s words played over and over again.
     He’s out, and he’s coming for you. 
     “What the hell was that?” 
     You looked up to Bradford’s questioning—and furious—face. He offered you a hand and you took it, standing up to face him. 
     “Sorry, I—”
     “‘Sorry’ doesn’t stop criminals from escaping,” Tim shouted. “Get your head in the game. You do want to be a cop, don’t you, Boot?”
     “Yes, sir.”
     So much for Tim trusting you. You couldn’t believe you’d almost just let a suspect get away. That had never happened to you before. But, that name—
     Your TO shook his head, walking to the drivers side and opening the door. “You know, I should write you up for that.”
     You noticed his wording. “But you’re not going to?”
     He waited for you to get into the passenger seat before saying, 
     “I didn’t say that. First you’re going to tell me what just happened between you two.”
     You flinched. “It—nothing. It was nothing.”
     “Uh-huh. It didn’t sound like nothing. Who’s Paul Cranston?” 
     You swallowed hard. “He’s just someone I used to know.”
      A million images flashed through your head. Paul’s face looming over you. The flashing lights and sirens. Waking up in the hospital. 
     You shook yourself out of it. You didn’t want to talk about this now. You swore you’d never talk about it again. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we get back to the station. Don’t we have to book this guy?”
     Tim sighed, started the car, and re-entered traffic. You breathed a sigh of relief. 
     “Control, this is 7-Adam-19. I need an ID on a Paul Cranston,” Tim spoke into his radio. 
     And so much for not talking about this now.
     “Can you do that without suspicion of a crime?” You asked him.
     “You can when dispatch loves you.” He winked at you. 
     You rolled your eyes at him as the radio began speaking. 
     “Paul Cranston: caucasian male, date of birth 8/4/92, recently released on parole, history of theft and domestic violence.” 
     Tim turned his gaze to you. “How do you know this man, Boot?”
     “It’s—a long story,” you told him. 
     “Well then you better start talking if you want to finish before we reach the station,” Tim commanded, making a left turn.
     “Can’t you just let it go?” You asked him. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”
      He’s out, and he’s coming for you. 
     You couldn’t fight the shiver that racked your body. 
      Tim’s eyes flicked to you, before returning back to the road. Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, shifting the car into park before turning to you. 
     “If this is another one of your ‘I’m dying, where are we’ tests—”
     “Boot, focus,” Tim barked. 
     “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think it’s really any of your concern if—”
     “Of course it’s my concern!” Tim shouted. His expression was so intense, you squirmed under his gaze and you felt your face heat. 
     He looked torn for a moment, before sighing and saying, “It’s my job as your TO to train you to the best of my abilities, and I can’t do that if you’re withholding information that may affect your performance as an officer.”
     “Fine,” you breathed. “It was a long time ago. I was 18, Paul and I met freshman year of college. We started dating and things were fine, good even, for a while.”
     “Until?” Tim prompted.
     “Until he got pissed one night because I caught him coming home really late with a ski mask and a bag full of stolen cash. Cliche, right?”
     You looked to Tim, but his expression was as stony as ever and you continued.
     “Apparently, he’d been stealing since high school and turns out he’d lied to me about working in retail and a whole bunch of other stuff. I threatened to call the police if he didn’t stop and—”
     You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.
You watched the houses and trees and cars pass by as you drove towards the station. 
     “—and he hit me. It didn't stop after that—once he knew he could get away with it. He said if I ever told anyone—about the robberies, the beatings—that he’d kill me. And I let him go on like that for months. I was so scared that if I called anyone, he’d make good on his promise.”
     Tim’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his fingers turning white, but he didn’t speak.
     “But then, one night, it got so bad that I thought he might actually kill me anyway. So I waited until he left the room for a minute and I called 911. He was arrested and—and that’s all I remember before I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital the next morning.”
     You kept your voice even, trying not to let the emotion show through your story. You were just recounting facts. This was almost 10 years ago, and you’d moved on with your life. 
     But reliving it all was hard, even after so much time had passed. 
     “It’s actually why I joined the academy,” you finished. “I wanted to save people, the way the officers that night did for me.”
     You were both silent for a moment. 
     A muscle in Tim’s jaw ticked. “Does the department know?”
     “Yeah,” you sighed. “It’s all part of my file.”
     “And the guy back there?” 
     You shrugged, glancing back at the suspect and lowering your voice. “He must be one of Paul’s partners or goons or—I don’t know. I guess he’s been in contact with him since he was released, if he knows what I look like.”
     The thought made your skin crawl. 
     “I don’t know what came over me,” you kept going. “It’s been years, I just—I didn’t expect to hear about him out of the blue from a criminal on the street, you know? But, I promise it won’t happen again.”
     Tim ignored that. “Do you think it was an empty threat?”
     “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I sure as hell hope so.”
     Bradford was silent for a long moment, his expression tense.
     The radio crackled to life. “7-Adam-19, we have a 215 in progress near your area, 239 West Armston Street. Respond.” 
     “Negative,” Bradford answered the dispatch call. 
     You stared at him, shocked. “Why aren’t we taking that? We can drop this guy off afterwards.”
     “Yeah, I agree,” the suspect chimed in from the backseat. “I think you should take that first.”
      Tim payed him no attention. “They’ll have someone else over there in minutes. We have more important things to do.”
     “You’re not even going to ask me if I know what a 215 is?” You joked. Tim never passed up an opportunity to quiz you. 
     “What’s a 215, Boot?” 
     “Carjacking.”
     “Correct.” Tim nodded. “And we’re going to have a talk with Sergeant Grey.”
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
    “Paul Cranston, released on parole from a thirteen year sentence three days ago, currently believed to be residing in the Woodland Hills area.”
     You sat in the briefing room, surrounded by other officers, as Sergeant Grey read out your ex-boyfriend’s file. You stared into Paul’s face on the screen, his mugshot visible from all angles. 
     Bradford stood near the front of the room, leaning against the wall. 
      “The department is aware of Officer (Y/l/n)’s history with Mr. Cranston,” Grey continued. “And will take necessary action should the situation progress.”
      “So, what’s the course of action here?” Tim crossed his arms. 
     “I’m afraid, as of now, there isn’t one,” Grey said. “Since there is no direct proof against Paul Cranston, we’d essentially be taking the word of a petty thief and wasting resources on what most likely was a desperate attempt to escape arrest. The department doesn’t exactly consider it a threat.”
    “Doesn’t consider it a threat?” Tim’s voice was low and dangerous. “How about a charge for threatening an officer?”
    “But Paul didn’t threaten an officer,” you sighed, thinking. “The armed robbery suspect did.”
     “Exactly, Officer (Y/l/n),” Grey agreed. “Basically, our hands are tied.”
     “Then untie them,” Bradford snapped, beginning to pace. “There’s gotta be some technicality we can get him on. Violation of parole, conspiring with a felon, failure to—”
     “That’s enough, Officer Bradford,” The sergeant fixed your TO with a firm look. “I appreciate your concern for (Y/l/n)’s safety, but we’ve done all we can do. And, for now, that’s nothing.”
      Tim’s concern for your safety. That thought had been in the back of your mind since the ride to the station. You couldn’t figure out why Tim was so determined about this. You supposed you were his rookie and was his job to look out for you. It was just, up until now, he hadn’t exactly done anything to make you believe he’d care so much.
     “Failure to take action could be endangering one of our officers,” Tim said, his jaw clenched. “Who’s to say this guy won’t make good on his threat? At least increase security at (Y/l/n)’s residence.”
     “Tim, its fine,” you said, your voice firm. “Let it go.” 
     They were making a big enough deal about this already. It probably was just a case of a criminal trying anything to get free. You doubted Paul even cared about what happened to you anymore. He probably never wanted to see you again—and that was a good thing. 
     But, then, you couldn’t get those words out of your head.
     He’s out and he’s coming for you.
     Bradford turned to you, his chest rising and falling. He looked so…resolved. Like he did when chasing down a suspect or that time when you’d walked in on him in the training rooms.
     Images of Tim shirtless, the muscles in his back tight as he pushed himself harder filled your head and you quickly shook them away. Definitely not the time. 
   “We’ll send a surveillance team to Paul’s location in the morning,” Grey said, turning to address you. “But for now the best thing you can do is to go home, get some sleep, and not let this rattle you. Understood?”
     “Yes, Sergeant.”
     “Good. Because the last thing the L.A.P.D needs is a cop who lets their personal life get in the way of their ability to do their job in any way that’s less than exemplary. I trust that’s not the case?” 
     You glanced to Bradford, certain he was going to mention your mistake with the suspect earlier. 
     “No, Sir,” Tim said instead. “My rookies don’t do ‘less than exemplary’. Don’t worry about (Y/l/n)—she’s proved to me she has what it takes to be an officer.”
     “Glad to hear it. Shift over. Everybody else, back to work,” Sergeant Grey waved everyone away. 
     You walked towards the front of the room, hearing grumbled complaints about midnight shift from the unlucky officers who still had to do patrol as you did so. 
     You stopped in front of your TO. His eyes were on you, his brow drawn in something that looked like concern.
     “Thanks,” you said. You couldn’t believe he’d told Grey all that—it was the most complimentary thing he’d said about you in your whole time riding with him. 
     “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Tim stated, shrugging. “I expect you to live up to any praise I’ve given you.”
     “Yes, sir,” you nodded, almost smiling.
     “Besides, you’re being trained by me. You’d have to be royally screwed up not to become one of the best on the force.”
     “And he’s humble too,” you teased. “But I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
     “Whatever, Boot.” Tim smiled, shaking his head. 
     “Be nonchalant all you want,” you said, feeling brave. “I know you like me.”
     For a brief moment, Tim looked like you’d slapped him. But then, the flash of—whatever that was—was gone and his expression was replaced by one of cold indifference. 
     “In your TO not your friend, (Y/l/n),” he stated. “It’s not about liking you. It’s about training you.”
      You sighed inwardly. Just when you thought you were making ground with Tim, he treated you like you’d just met. “Of course, how could I forget.”
     Tim stayed silent. 
    “Well, I should head out,” you told him, “I’ve got a busy night ahead me. You know, trying not to get killed by my ex and all.”
     You’d meant it as a joke, to make light of the situation that left you feeling more uneasy than you’d care to admit. Tim, however, just shook his head and brushed past you, out of the briefing room. 
     You stood there for a moment, trying to work through what had just happened, before turning around and taking a step in the other direction. Only to find Officers Lopez and Bishop standing in front of you, staring between you and Tim’s retreating figure. 
     “So how’d you do it?” Bishop looked you up and down.
     “Do what?” You asked, confused. 
     “Get Tim wrapped around your finger,” Lopez answered for her, smirking. 
     You felt your eyes widen. “Tim’s not—” 
     “Please,” Lopez put her hands on her hips. “I’ve watched him train dozens of rookies and he’s never stood up for any of them like that. So naturally I figured you’re either blackmailing him or sleeping with him.”
     You blanched, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you let what Angela said sink in. You knew she was just teasing you, but the statement caught you off guard. You imagined you and Tim—together. It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant thought. And then you realized what you were thinking and you chided yourself, hurriedly un-imagining it. 
     “No, that’s not—neither one of those things,” you answered quickly. “Trust me, Tim doesn’t give me any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. I actually can’t tell if he hates me half of the time.”
     “We’re not implying anything,” Bishop replied. “Only observing. And he doesn’t hate you.”
     “How can you possibly know that?” You were suddenly insecure. You still held on to a secret dread that you were going to wildly disappoint Tim—that you already had. Sure, there was all the stuff he had just said. But there was also months of him being hard on you and saying that you weren’t friends. 
     “Because I’ve seen him hate plenty of people,” Bishop spoke. “And he definitely didn’t look at them the way he looks at you.”
      The way Tim looked at you? You weren’t aware he looked at you in a way that was different from the way he looked at anyone else at the station.
     “What are you guys trying to say?” You asked them. 
     “I’m saying watch out,” Bishop raised an eyebrow. “Because Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.”
     Could there be any truth to what the two officers were saying? Was it wrong for a small part of you to hope there was?
     “Um, ok,” you said, blinking. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”
     “Don’t believe us if you want, it’s your call,” Bishop shrugged, backing up. “But I’m telling you, you mean something to Tim that the rest of us can only guess at.”
     And with that she walked out of the room.
    “Bishop can be intense,” Angela said when the woman was out of earshot. “She’s got that whole ‘anti-cops-dating’ thing going on—but I do think she’s right about this. Tim’s tough, and I’m sure he gives you hell—but it’s not because he doesn’t like you. I actually think it’s quite the opposite. ”
     Was there really something that everyone saw between you and Tim except for you? You still couldn’t even entertain the thought that Tim had feelings for you that were more than TO and rookie. 
     “Well you’ve certainly left me with a lot to think about,” you said finally.
     “Then I’ll let you start thinking—you’re welcome for the peace of mind.” 
     You wouldn’t have used the phrase peace of mind, yourself. Sure, it was nice to know that the officers who had known your TO for years were confident that he didn’t look down on you. But, this conversation also had left your head swimming with conflicting thoughts about Tim that you didn’t feel like dealing with right now.
     “And take care,” Lopez said knowingly. “We have your back if anything happens.”
      With that, your thoughts slammed back to the current situation.
    “Right, that. You—you think something’s going to happen?” You asked, trying to sound casual.
     “I think in this job we have to be prepared for the worst,” she corrected. “But I also think that bastard would have to be pretty stupid to mess with you.”
     She smiled at you and you smiled back. After watching her leave, you followed her path, heading towards the locker rooms.
     You thought about what she had said about you and Tim, about Paul.
     You hoped she was right—you just couldn’t say which you hoped she was more right about.
₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚
     Your thoughts bounced between your conversation with Talia and Angela and the message from your ex as you walked to your car minutes later. 
     When you woke up this morning, you thought the most stressful part of your day would’ve been a police chase or a shootout.  You never would’ve expected it to be my ex-boyfriend is out of jail and could be hunting me down and my training officer might have feelings for me.
     Funny how things could change so fast.
     Suddenly, you heard a bang. You spun around quickly, your heart in your throat. But it was only a car door being slammed shut from across the parking lot. 
     Get a grip, you told yourself. 
     You rounded the corner, running a hand through your hair.
     You stopped. Tim was leaning against the side of your car, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked you up and down.
     “What are you doing?” You asked. 
     “Driving you home, Boot,” Tim said. “Get in the car.”
     “Tim, you don’t have to—”
     “That wasn’t a question, give me the keys.”
     There was no point in fighting him. Besides, there was a small part of you that didn’t really want to fight him. 
     You tossed him the keys to your car and got in the passenger seat with a sigh.  
     Tim started the engine. 
     “If this is about Paul, this really isn’t necessary,” you said after you’d been driving for several minutes and the silence became too much. “I can handle myself. I am an officer, in case you forgot.”
     “You’re a rookie,” Tim corrected, eyes never leaving the road. “And if the department won’t do anything, then I will.”
     “What—we’re not going to go looking for him, are we?” You asked.
     “Of course not,” Tim scoffed. “I’m not a vigilante, Boot. Where do you live?”
     “Take a left at the light,” you guided. 
     Neither of you talked for the remainder of the drive, save your occasional directions. When you pointed out your apartment building, Tim parked the car and handed you the keys. 
     “Thanks,” you mumbled to him as you got out of the car, grabbing your bag and heading towards the building.
     You heard a door shut behind you and turned to find your TO standing on the sidewalk, an eyebrow raised.
     “You didn’t think I was just going to let you spend the night alone with a target on your head, did you, Boot?” 
     “Tim—”
     “No more protests,” he said firmly. “As your TO, I—”
     “No, I was just going to say that if you were planning on staying here, why couldn’t I have just driven my own car?”
     “I don’t let my rookies drive,” Tim walked past you and to the front door. “Even off-duty.”
     You followed him quickly, getting out your key and letting you both in.
     When you reached your apartment you did a quick scan of the space—it wasn’t exactly like you’d been expecting company, much less your training officer. You cringed at the messiness.
      “How many entrances and exits are there?” Bradford asked. 
     “Um, just the front door. And there’s windows in the kitchen and the bedroom,” you said. 
     You skimmed past everything in the place, looking towards the window in your bedroom. Your eye caught on one of your bras hanging from your bedpost. You quickly ran over and shut the door, blushing and hoping Tim hadn’t noticed.
     “Please, Boot,” Tim made a face. “It’s nothing I haven’t already seen before.”
     “Ok no offense, but I usually don’t let guys see my bra the first time I bring them to my place,” you joked.
     “If that’s an offer, I’m going to have to politely decline.”
     “What—no,” you hurried out, worried your voice sounded wrong. “I just meant—”
    Tim interrupted. “I’m going to do a sweep of the place, make sure everything’s as it should be.”
     “Is that really needed?”
     “I’m not taking any chances.” He left the room and you sunk down onto the couch, letting your bag fall to the floor. 
     Your TO returned a few minutes later. “All clear.”
     “See, everything’s fine,” you said, speaking just as much to yourself as you were to Tim. 
     “Well,” Bradford started, amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say everything is fine. Your storage closet’s a fire hazard.”
     Had Tim Bradford just made a joke?
     “I’ll be sure not to exit through the closet in the events of a fire,” you said sarcastically. “And if you keep insulting my living space, I’m going to be forced to kick you out.”
     “Bold for someone whose career I could end.”
     “You can’t end my career for that,” you shot back. Paused. “Can you?”
     Tim raised his eyebrows.
     “Only one way to find out,” you said enthusiastically, teasing him now. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t let the closet trap you on the way out.
     “Nice try, Boot. But you’re still stuck with me for,” Tim checked his watch. “eight hours.”
     “Nine hours,” you corrected. You had to leave for work in nine hours.
     “You’re right, I should get us drinks,” Tim joked.
     You rolled you eyes and he shot you a look. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”
     Tim got up, disappearing into the kitchen.  
     “Is all you own ginger ale, Boot?” He called. 
     “There’s six year old tequila in the cupboard,” you suggested.
     “Ginger ale it is.”
      Tim joined you in the living room again, carrying two bottles. He handed one to you, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch. 
     You noted the careful distance he put between you. 
     “What’s this thing made of, Boot? Plywood?” Tim asked, inspecting the couch.
     You smothered a laugh.
     “Get comfortable. It’s where you’re sleeping,” you answered. 
     “Won’t be necessary. If you’re not awake you’re not aware.”
     “So, what, we’re taking shifts on guard like this is a stakeout?” You asked.
     “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t come here to sleep.”
     “Tim I can’t let you stay up all night while I’m unconscious.” you sighed.
     “You can if it’s an order. Besides, no offense, but rookies are historically less vigilant and have a slower response time…” 
     You tried not to take offense at that. “Right, Eagle Eye.”
     Tim glared at you. 
     “Angela told me.”
     “Of course she did. And at least I didn’t leave valuable evidence on the street to chase after a dog wearing a top hat.”
     “Sparky could’ve been involved in the crime,” you said, indignant. “And that was one time!”
     “One time too many,” Tim mumbled, lifting the bottle to his lips, his eyes sparkling. 
     “Ok, so when you were a rookie you were, what, perfect?” You shot back.
     “Damn straight.” Tim nodded. 
     “You made no mistakes, at all?” You prompted.
     “Well,” Tim took a sip of his drink. “There was one thing.”
     “Aside from the graffiti incident?”
     “That wasn’t a mistake because it wasn’t my fault. I was following direct orders and—you know what, never mind. If you don’t want to hear it—”
     “No, no, I do!” you scooted towards the edge of your seat in anticipation. “And none of that ‘I worked too hard and too efficiently’ crap.”
     “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sarcastically. “My first week on the job I was put on paperwork duty, which was—”
     “Boring and tedious? I can imagine,” you deadpanned, having been put in charge of paperwork by Tim many times.
     “I was going to say necessary and a valuable skill to have,” Bradford corrected. “But anyways, we had just got done booking a couple suspects and I was working on the reports. A triple homicide and a prostitution case. It was a long day and I was tired and I guess I got sloppy—”
     “You? Sloppy?” You interrupted.
     “Do you want me to tell you this story or not?”
     “Right, sorry. Continue.”
     Tim did. “I’d just finished tagging the evidence for both cases and when I was filling everything out I somehow got the numbers mixed up. Long story short, according to my report, the homicide gun ended up being linked to the prostitution case and the weapon allegedly used in the triple homicide was…a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs.”
      You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you now.
     “Forensics caught it before it was sent to the judge, thank god,” Bradford sighed. “But the next day when I was getting ready for my shift, I was greeted by dozens of similar handcuffs in my locker—apparently Smitty has a guy.”
     “Tell me you kept them,” you begged, pulling your knees up to your chest.
     “Of course not!”
     Tim blinked.
     “Well, not all of them—Isabel made me take a pair home. I found out later that she was the one who orchestrated the whole prank. She used to do stuff like that all the time before she, uh,—”
     “Tim—”
     You’d heard about Bradford’s ex-wife. How she’d become an addict, gotten herself mixed up with bad people. You knew how much it had affected Tim, even if he hadn’t said so. 
     She was in rehab now, getting her life back together. You were glad she was finally getting the help she needed. Still, you knew how much she meant to Tim. How much it had hurt him to move on from her and let her start a new life without him. 
     “I’m fine.” Tim said firmly, clearing his throat. “It’s good to talk about her…before. She’s on the right path now.”
     You stared at the ground in front of you, picking at your fingernails. 
     “Are you still in love with her?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. You didn’t know why you asked—didn’t know why you cared what the answer was. Ten minutes ago you wouldn’t have even dared to ask that question.  
     But he was being so uncharacteristically open and you seemed to be getting along well. You reluctantly brought your eyes up to Tim.
     His eyes had gone wide. He looked like he wanted to leave or yell at you or both, and you immediately regretted it.
     But then his eyes softened and he opened his mouth. “No. I’ll always care about her and she’ll always be someone that I did love. But relationships change—people change.”
     You nodded. “I get it—I mean, I’m kind of rusty on relationships—but I get it. I actually haven’t dated anyone since Paul. I guess it was just hard to trust someone after that. I kind of sabotaged any relationship that had any chance of starting.”
     It was the first time you’d admitted that to anyone. You wouldn’t have pegged Tim as being so easy to talk to. You had almost forgotten about the whole Paul situation before you’d just brought him up. You had been enjoying hanging out with Tim, no matter the circumstances. He was actually pleasant to be around when he wasn’t on the clock. 
     You imagined this happening more often—you and Tim, not just coworkers but friends. Maybe even more. Maybe this was one relationship you didn’t have to end before it started.
     You dared to let yourself think about it. You watched Tim process your words. Saw the emotion clearly written in his face as he looked at you intensely. 
     “Hey, thanks again for not letting me be alone tonight,” you told him, you’re voice soft. 
     “Don’t take it personally, Boot,” he said. “My house is being repainted and even your place beats breathing in paint fumes all night.”
     “I’m honored,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “But you have to admit this has been fun—hanging out.”
     Your little impromptu sleepover. You smiled.
     Tim, however, looked like a switch had been flipped inside of him. You watched as he clenched his jaw, leaning almost imperceptibly away from you 
     “Listen, Boot—”
     He was cut off by the sound of breaking glass and a loud thumping sound. 
     You both shot up off the couch, abandoning your drinks. Tim’s hand went to his gun. You did the same. 
     Tim turned to you. “Stay here.”
     “Like hell,” you shot back, following him as he started to do a sweep of the main room.
     If that sound was someone—Paul—breaking in, you weren’t going to sit here and let Bradford fight your battles for you. 
     He signaled to let you know he was moving to the kitchen. You nodded, following. 
     “Clear,” he muttered, and moved on towards the bathroom. You were right behind him when you heard another noise, like the muffled sound of scraping of furniture, and you spun around.
     The bedroom. It was the only room in that direction that you hadn’t checked yet. 
     You glanced to Tim, but he hadn’t heard it. He was a few feet ahead of you, just now entering the bathroom. 
     You slowly stepped away from him and made your way across the apartment, down the hall and over to the closed bedroom door.
     Holding your weapon in one hand, you opened the door with the other. But, you barely had time to see what was on the other side before you were grabbed and a cloth was shoved into your mouth. 
     Your gun was ripped from your hand, and you were pushed hard onto the ground. Your wrist burned where you landed on shards of glass from the broken window
     Something smacked into the back of your head and you were dragged and thrown onto the bed on the corner. You heard the door shut. 
     Squinting up into the light, rubbing your throbbing head, your heart dropped as you saw who was in front of you. 
     “Did you miss me?” Paul sneered, spinning your gun in his hand. 
     You froze. Everything crashed into you at once. The events of the last time you saw your ex-boyfriend sped through your mind. Suddenly, you were scared and 18 again, at the mercy of this man. 
     “I guess you got my man’s message,” Paul continued. “Because you don’t exactly look shocked to see me. Scared, of course, but not shocked.”
     Coming back to yourself, you scrambled up onto your knees, ready to knock him out.
     Paul shook his head, laughing. “No, no. If you move even an inch I’ll shoot you right in the forehead.”
     You sat back down, your heart thumping in your chest as you scanned the room for a way out. Some way to get the upper hand on him. You had been trained for this.
     “Listen to me,” he continued, his hand coming to the gag in your mouth. You flinched away from him. “I know there’s someone in here with you. If you try to scream to alert them, I will also shoot you.  I’d like to play with you first before I put a bullet in your brain but, hey, I’m not picky. Is that clear?”
     You nodded, trying to measure how fast you could knock the weapon out of his hand before he could take a shot at you. Paul took the cloth out of you mouth.
     You gasped in air. “Backup’s going to be in here any second and then you’re going back to prison.”
     Tim would notice you were gone. He had to. 
     “Oh, I don’t think so,” Paul smiled. “I’ll be long gone and you’ll be long dead before that happens.”
     You glanced towards the door. What was taking him so long?
     Suddenly, Paul reached forwards and gripped your face in his hand. “Just as beautiful as I remember. It was such a shame things had to end with us as they did. How did that happen again? Oh, that’s right. You betrayed me.”
     “And that was the best decision I ever made,” you spat. 
     Paul backed up, shaking his head. “You’ve gotten feistier, baby. It’ll make this so much more fun for me.”
     He stepped back towards you, his face inches from yours, sneering. “This’ll be just like old times.”
     Bam! The door to your bedroom busted open. Bradford rushed in, taking in the situation. You breathed a sigh of relief.
     “Get down on the ground!” Tim growled.
     Paul froze for only a second, fear flashing across his face, but it was enough. You lunged, wrestling the gun out of his hands, your wrist protesting. 
     You trained it on him. Paul was surrounded.
     “You have five seconds to get on the ground before I shoot you,” Tim bit out, his expression murderous.
     “Come on, baby, you’re not going to let Officer Buzzkill treat me like that, are you?” Paul appealed to you. 
     You leveled your gaze on him, ignoring his words. “You heard him. Get on the ground.”
     Paul slowly knelt, never taking his eyes off of you. Tim charged him, pulling out handcuffs and locking them around his wrists. 
    You took a moment to be amused—of course Tim had off-duty cuffs. 
    “So this ends the way it starts, huh?” Paul shook his head. “You getting me locked up?”
     “Just like old times,” you echoed his earlier statement. You stayed stoic, putting your hands on your hips to hide the way they shook.
    Anger sparked in Paul’s eyes before he took on a smug expression. “You’re right. You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.”
     “Don’t listen to him, Boot,” Tim warned hauling the man up off the ground. 
     “You know I’m right,” Paul’s manic eyes bore into yours. He was enjoying every moment of this, laughter in his tone. It took all that was in you to keep your expression blank, unaffected. “You’ll always be that person I knew—the person who loved me. Because you did—love me. You could’ve walked away. But you didn’t. You just took it all like the victim you are. You pathetic bitch—”
      He was cut off abruptly as Tim slammed him face-first against the wall. Paul cried out.
     “That’s enough!” Tim shouted. “If you ever threaten—no, if you even look at (Y/l/n) again, I will hunt you down and personally remove every external limb from your body, do you understand me? (Y/n) is a million times the person you will ever be and you don’t get to make her feel small. If I didn’t think sitting in a cell for the rest of your life was a worse fate, I’d kill you right now—screw the department.”
     Your ears were ringing, your head dizzy as you tried to ground yourself. Your voice came out tiny. “Tim, stop.”
     Bradford turned to you, almost as if he had forgotten you were in the room. He was breathing hard, his fists clenched around the man in custody. 
     “And she’s not a victim,” Tim whispered, turning back to Paul, his voice right by his ear. “She’s a survivor.”
     With that, he shoved Paul back to the ground and moved over to you, his eyes roaming over your face. Your body. He took the gun out of your hands, setting it on the desk. Then, he gripped your injured wrist and you winced as he inspected it.
     “Probably hurts like hell, but you won’t need stitches. Any other injuries?”
     “Um, he hit me in the back of the head,” you felt your scalp, a lump already forming.
     Tim’s hands moved to your hair, his touch gentle, his breath on your cheek as he leaned to get a better look.
     Your own breath caught, your heart racing at the intimacy of your position. 
     “What’s the damage?” You almost whispered.
     Tim’s eyes met yours, the heat of his stare spreading through your body. “You’ll have a nasty bruise, but there’s no external bleeding.”
     Tim stepped back, and you found yourself wishing he hadn’t.
     “Are you—are you ok, Boot?” He asked carefully. 
     How did you even answer that question? You were still in shock, unable to process what had just happened. 
     “I will be,” you settled on, breathing in slowly. Exhaling.
      Tim looked like he wanted to say more but he clenched his jaw, glancing in the direction of Paul, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Maybe he had finally accepted his defeat. 
     “I’m going to call for back up, you go clean that up,” Tim gestured to the blood covering your wrist where you had landed in the broken glass. “You need help?”
     “No, I got it,” You nodded, walking towards the bathroom as you heard Tim make the call.
     “911, what’s your emergency?”
     “This is off-duty officer Tim Bradford, badge 34831. I need a unit to my location for a 126. Suspect in custody. Code 4.”
      Tim’s voice faded as you made your way down the hall, shutting the bathroom door after you to access the medicine cabinet behind it.
     You took out the necessary supplies and began cleaning the wound. You stopped in front of the sink, letting your burning eyes close for a moment, massaging your temples. 
     Now that you were alone, you let yourself collapse, bracing your hands against the counter 
     Images flooded your senses. 
     The gag. Paul hitting you from behind. You, young and frightened, huddled on the ground. That gleam in his eyes.
     Your eyes snapped open, your breath coming out fast.
     He’s in custody. You told yourself. He can’t hurt you anymore. 
     You looked at your reflection in the mirror staring wearily back at you, your hands still shaking as you brushed your hair back from your face. Was it hot in here or was it just you?
      Turning your attention back to your wrist, you took a deep breath and continued to dab at the wound.
      You reached for the bandages on the counter. A sheen of sweat broke out on your forehead as you wrapped your arm. 
      You pictured Paul’s grip on you. His words rang in your ears. 
     You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.
     The room tilted. You swayed on your feet so you sunk down to the ground, leaning your head against the cabinet, the cool wood pressing against your head. 
     You tried to slow your erratic breathing but you couldn’t. You couldn’t—
     The sound of footsteps and voices carried through the door. You were vaguely aware that it was probably the backup here to take Paul away.
     You closed your eyes, your throat tight, you pulse thundering in your ears.
     I’m ok, you tried to tell yourself. I’m ok. I’m ok.
     You were unaware how long you sat like this. You had no concept of time. Your thoughts were wild, images flashing in and out, unable to form conscious ideas. Every breath sending a sharp pain through your body. 
     “Boot?”
     The muffled voice was closer than the others had been. 
     “Boot?” The voice was louder now. You registered Tim at the door. He knocked once. Twice. 
     “Boot, I’m coming in,” he shouted, his voice laced with worry. The door was shoved open. 
     “Dammit,” he cursed, seeing your state. You felt him getting closer to you, but you didn’t look up as he knelt by you, his concerned expression taking in yours.
     “Hey, look at me,” Tim coaxed. “(Y/l/n), breathe.”
     He seemed miles and miles away. There was a pause.
     “Hey, Boot, I got another test for you,” he spoke quickly, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “I want you to tell me the most annoying person we work with.”
     “What?” You rasped, barely hearing him. 
    “Bishop’s an easy target,” he said. “And Lopez is a slob, so you can’t go wrong there. West’s got the whole daddy issues thing. Don’t even get me started on Nolan—”
     You swallowed hard, your mouth feeling dry.
     “And then there’s me. I mean, I’m annoying right?”
     You breathed a shaky laugh, opening your eyes slowly. 
     Tim smiled. “Oh so you agree? It’s ok, Boot, you can say me. Go ahead, I can take it.”
     When you didn’t say anything, Tim kept talking. “Personally I’d go for Detective Coleman. The man makes double what I do and I’m convinced he doesn’t own a decent looking tie.”
     “L-like the—the green one from last week,” you managed, trying to slow your breathing.
     “Leprechauns would call it tacky,” Tim agreed. “Now, since we’ve discussed this from all angles I’m going to need you to choose wisely. Because this is going to go on your evaluation for today.”
     You gulped. “Are—are you going to get me fired if I say you?”
     Tim let out a quiet, relieved laugh. “I knew it. Guess who’s going back to long-sleeves on Monday?”
     “In this heat wave? You—you wouldn’t dare,” you joked, sniffing.
     “I don’t know, I am the most annoying person you work with—sounds like something I might do.”
     You laughed again, this time the sound coming out less strained. You focused on taking deep breaths, feeling your heart rate return to normal. 
     “There you go.” Tim stood up, offering his hand to you for the second time that day. You gripped his arm as he pulled you up onto shaky legs.
     “Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed to have had your TO see you like this now that your head was clearer. 
     “For what, doing my job?”
     You smiled weakly at him, running a hand along your forehead. “Sorry for um—”  
     “Having a normal reaction to a highly emotional situation? Don’t apologize for being human,” Tim said firmly, his forehead creased.
     “So, he’s gone?” You’re voice came out small.
     Tim’s expression softened. “He’s gone.”
     You nodded again, looking at the floor.  Tim sighed, reaching an arm out. “Come here.”
You took a step towards him and then you were in his arms, his embrace strengthening you as he rubbed your back. You stood there like that, not wanting this to end. Not wanting to put distance between you again. Finally, he pulled back and looked down at you, his gaze weighted, before taking a few steps towards the door. You looked over Tim’s shoulder.
     “Hey, (Y/n), look at me.” Tim said. You brought your gaze up to meet his. “He is never going to hurt you again, ok? I’ll make sure of that.”
      You let your eyes fall closed, feeling ashamed that you had been so affected. That Tim had to handle all of this for you. “I know. And I’ll understand if after…all this, you don’t see me fit to—to be a police officer anymore.”
     Tim’s eyes hardened, his voice hardening with them. “With all do respect, Boot, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. I meant every word of what I said back there—you’re a survivor. All I saw tonight is that you are a brave and intelligent woman who just so happens to have a scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. Don’t let it define you because then he wins. You’re a great cop, (Y/l/n). It’s rookies like you who make the force as strong as it is.”
     You listened to Tim speak. He sounded so…passionate. Bishop’s words came back to you.
     Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.
     You desperately wanted that to be true, now more than ever. He’d been so kind to you in this past hour—staying with you, rescuing you, reassuring you, bringing you back from whatever dark place you had just been in. 
     And then this. Talking about you like he…like he really cared about you. And maybe it was just because he felt like as your training officer he had to protect you. But in the moment, it felt like maybe it could be more than that. 
    “So what I’m hearing is, I’m getting a promotion?” You teased finally, brushing your hair back from your damp face, breaking the silence. 
     Bradford put up a hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you still have a lot to learn from me.”
     You sighed. This was normal, this was comfortable. How you and Tim always acted with each other. You were both relieved and disappointed at the change back into familiar territory. 
     You ran a hand through your hair, stifling a yawn. Saying today had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century.
     “Now come on,” Tim flicked his head in the direction of the door. “It’s way past my bedtime.”
     “Let me guess, nine p.m. sharp every night?” You teased.
     “That’s not true.”
     You raised an eyebrow at him.
     “Nine-thirty,” he admitted. 
     You giggled, following Tim out of the bathroom and into the hallway which led to the living room.
     You glanced at your bedroom as you passed it, trying not to think about what had happened in there. It was over now, you told yourself. 
     “Since my room is kind of a crime scene, I guess we’re both crashing out here,” you sighed, gesturing to the couch. 
      Silence filled the room and you immediately realized your mistake, cheeks flaming. 
     “Or, right, I guess you can go now. Danger’s over.”
     “Are you kidding?” Tim said. “And get to bed even later? I’m not going anywhere.”
     You stepped into the living room. You were glad Tim was staying. You felt safer with him here, even though you knew it was irrational. 
     “I’ll get the blankets and stuff,” you said, turning back the way you’d came.
     “Let me go with you,” Tim offered.
     “I would but they’re in the closet and I don’t want it to trap you or something,” you said. 
     “You think I can’t take a closet full of your crap? Bring it on,” Tim challenged and you led him down the hall. 
     A few minutes later you returned to the living room, blankets and pillows in tow. Tim helped you pull out the couch bed—you were grateful you’d opted for this couch instead of a regular one—and you stood back, admiring your work. 
     “Take the couch,” you told him. “It was your bed originally.”
     “Not gonna happen.” Tim crossed his arms. “It’s your house. And you’re injured.”
     “I’m fine. And where are you going to sleep? The floor?” You asked him. 
     Tim scanned the room and then sat down on the chair across from the couch-turned-bed. 
     “Are you sure you’re ok on that?” You asked. It didn’t exactly look comfortable for spending hours on.
     “Trust me, Boot, you got the short end of the stick. Have fun sleeping on plywood.” 
      You smiled. “So, what, you’re just going to sit over there and watch me sleep?”
     “I can leave, if you’re—”
     “No,” you’re voice came out faster and more sharp than you’d intended. “I mean, you came all this way, I don’t want you to have to get an Uber home at this hour.”
     You climbed into bed, aware that you were still in your clothes, but not caring enough to change. 
     “We should get some sleep, it’s been a long night,” Tim sighed. He got up and turned the lights off, darkness filling the room. 
     “Damn, boot,” you heard Tim’s voice even though you couldn’t see him anymore. “It’s pitch black in here. You don’t sleep with a light or anything?”
     “Well I don’t usually sleep in my living room,” you pointed out. Then you stifled a laugh. “Wait a minute. Is Officer Tim Bradford afraid of the dark?”
     Tim scoffed. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”
     “Your secret’s safe with me,” you teased.
     “There is no secret,” Tim shot back.
     You winked. “Exactly.”
     “You’re impossible.”
     “Thank you.” You smiled.
     The room fell silent. You heard him sit back down. 
     You laid back, staring up at the ceiling. The seconds ticked by. 
    “Do you—do you think he really would’ve shot me?” You asked, finally.
     “I don’t know,” Tim admitted. “He clearly thought you guys had unfinished business. But guys like that get high on fear—on desperation. He couldn’t have that if you were dead. In his mind, he’d be losing his power over you.”
     He paused. 
     “Besides, I don’t think he would’ve gotten the chance,” Tim said. “He clearly underestimated the badass-ness of his opponent.”
     You snorted. “Did you just say ‘badass-ness’?”
     “It’s a word!” Tim defended. 
     You laughed, turning over on your side. 
     “But seriously, if you ever need anything, you can always talk to me,” Tim said, sounding earnest. “I mean it.”
     “I may just take you up on that,” you responded. “Do you tell that to all your rookies?”
     You could barely make out Tim’s frame in the dark. “No, not all of them.”
     “I’m going to take that as I’m special,” you said. 
     Your next words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.   
    “You know, Lopez and Bishop had this crazy idea that you had feelings for me,” you said, staring up at the ceiling. “But I told them it was just that—crazy.”
     Tim didn’t speak.
     “It is crazy right?” You asked. You had to know. He still was silent. “Right?”
     “Boot, look—” Bradford started. His voice came out rough, as if he hadn’t talked in days. Your heartbeat was a deafening roar in your ears. 
     “Tim?”
     You could hear more than see Tim’s movements. He stood, pacing the length of the room. Sat back down. Stood up again. Sat. 
     “Dammit, Boot, I can’t do this,” he finished. “I can’t do this right now, (Y/n).”
     Your pulse quickened. He hadn’t denied it. 
     You stood up. 
     And maybe it was having to deny your attraction to your TO for seven months. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the attack earlier. Maybe it was because the darkness felt safe and secret—made you feel like you could do anything. Maybe you were just too eager after his small encouragement—or, lack of discouragement.
     But, whatever the reason, you walked over to where Tim sat, kneeled down, looked into his confused, strained eyes, and kissed him. 
     Tim froze, his lips still against yours. And then, almost as if he was afraid you would vanish or startle, he placed his hand gingerly on your waist, and leaned into the kiss.
     And he was kissing you back. Tim Bradford was kissing you back. 
     His free hand went to your hair, deepening the kiss as he gripped you closer. He kissed you like he had been waiting a lifetime.
     It was desperate and raw and passionate—it was perfect.
     You broke apart, both gasping for breath.       
     “Listen, Boot,” Tim started. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “You’ve had a long and confusing day—”
     You interrupted him. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. But I’m not confused about this.”
     You brought your lips to his again. This time he didn’t hold back. He pulled you closer to him and you felt the warmth of him through his shirt. 
     When you came apart again, he was smiling. 
     “Well, I guess I can check thinking that you hate me off my daily checklist,” you whispered. 
     “I don’t hate you, Boot,” Tim said. “I actually hate how much I don’t hate you.”
     You studied the planes of his face, the light from the hallway illuminating his eyes. His lips. His jawline.
     “Boot—”
     “If you’re going to say that this is a bad idea, I don’t want to hear it. Not tonight,” you said. 
     “I thought that was obvious.” Tim stated matter-of-factly. “I was going to say actually I’d appreciate it if you did turn on a lamp or something, because—”
     You laughed, kissing him again. 
     “But seriously,” Tim continued. “You know we can’t do this.”
     “Why not?” You pouted. “If it’s what we both want.”
     “It’s not about what we want—we could be putting both of our careers in jeopardy.”
     You knew he was right. Of course he was right. 
     “But is it—what you want?” 
     “God yes,” Tim blurted, standing up, his voice strained. “It’s what I’ve wanted from the moment I started training you. Do you know how hard it’s been trying to put distance between us and deny every damn thing when all I wanted to do was—”
     He broke off, running a hand along his hair. 
     “Then do it.” Your heart pounded in your chest. “You’ll only be my TO for a few more months, we’ll just keep it a secret until then. No one has to know.”
     Tim looked at you. 
     “Ok you’re right, Bishop and Lopez will totally know something’s up,” you admitted.
     “I guess I’ll just have to transfer,” Tim joked.
     “What happened to ‘Tim Bradford finished what he starts’?” You asked.
     “Oh I intend to do just that,” Tim whispered. “Are we really thinking about doing this?”
     You thought about the consequences you could face—Tim could face—if it got out that you and your training officer were romantically involved. You knew it would be a huge risk—one that could get you cut from the program.
     You looked at Tim. He was watching you like he never wanted to let you go again. You thought about how long you’d wanted this, even if you didn’t fully know it until tonight.
     And the decision seemed clear.
     “Yeah,” you beamed. “Yeah I think we are.”
     He cupped your face in his hand, his fingers warm against the back of your neck. Your eyes closed against his touch. You felt comfort for the first time in hours.
     “You need rest,” Tim whispered and your eyes fluttered open. “As much as I’d love to do this all night.”
     You nodded, backing up towards your bed. Tim ran a hand through his hair again and then sat back down in the armchair.
    “What’re you doing?” You asked him.
    “Going to bed,” Tim answered, as if it was obvious. 
    “Get over here,” you gestured, rolling your eyes at him.
    “I was hoping you’d say that,” Tim smiled. 
     You climbed into bed beside him, pulling the covers over both of you.
     You lay your head on Bradfords chest. You could feel his heartbeat in your ear as you closed your eyes.     
    “You know, this will kind of be like doing undercover work—minus the threat of getting killed,” you said. 
     “I don’t know about that—I wouldn’t put anything past an angry Sergeant Grey.”
     “We’ll just have to be so in-character that we never find out,” you said. 
     “I’ll make sure to be extra tough on you next shift,” Tim agreed. 
     “And that’s different from any other day how?” You shot back, sitting up. 
     “Hey, training rookies is a sacred duty and I take that very seriously. If you think I’m going to throw your education out the window simply because—”
     You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. You echoed his earlier words. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
     Tim shook is head slightly, eyes roaming over your face. 
     “What?” You asked.
     “You’re so beautiful, (Y/n),” Tim breathed. “I’m so glad I can finally tell you that.”
     “Me too,” you said. “Even if it took…this for it to happen.”
     “Speaking of which, maybe I’ll take a sick day tomorrow,” Tim said. “Since there’s no way Grey—or myself—is letting you go to work. What’d you say?”
     You wanted to fight him, say you were fine and you could make it to your shift the next day. But the promise of taking a sick day with Tim was to tempting to pass up. 
     “I say I’m glad your house is being repainted,” you teased. “Because then you’ll have to stay with me.”
     Tim smiled knowingly. “My house isn’t being repainted, Boot. And I’m all yours.”
     You grinned, laying back down and resting your head back against Tim. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
     You felt safe, protected in his arms. 
     The rest would come. Dealing with what had happened tonight. Starting your secret relationship with Tim. Eventually facing everyone at work who had heard the news and would want to ask if you were ok. And you would be ok.
     But for now, this was enough. He was enough. 
     “Tim?” You whispered.
     “Hmm?”
     You struggled for words to fit the gravity of what you were feeling for him. “Thanks for…everything.”
     “What are TOs for,” Tim shrugged. 
     “Apparently keeping the night light business afloat.” You giggled at the look on Bradford’s face. 
     “Shut it, Boot.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed loves!! i’m so down bad for tim it’s not even funny 😵‍💫
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fluentmoviequoter · 29 days ago
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Tastes of Home and Cake
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!baker!reader
Summary: You own a popular bakery frequented by celebrities, but when the Mid-Wilshire police station hires you for a luncheon, you go out of your way to make cakes, cupcakes, and favourites to make the day special.
Warnings: fluff, Tim bring grumpy toward everyone except his wife who makes him a softie
Word Count: 2.0k+ words
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules
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“The cast of Rings of Power will be here at 10:00 tomorrow instead of 10:15, is that okay?” your assistant, Kasey, asks.
“Of course,” you respond as you spin a tart pan to remove an air bubble from the filling. “Did you hear back from the Scuderia Ferrari people?”
“Oh, yes. I fit Charles and Lewis in for a lunch and tasting five days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix in November of next year.”
“Perfect!”
You pass the tart to one of your bakery sous chefs before you follow Kasey out of the kitchen. The small dining area of your bakery is full, and the door has been closed and locked to give your clients a private meal.
“Good afternoon,” you greet after removing your apron and straightening your outfit. “It’s a pleasure you have you here, and I hope you enjoy everything.”
After several minutes of speaking to your customers and promising to fit them into your booked schedule when they finish filming in several months, you return to Kasey’s side.
“How do you keep your cool talking to celebrities every day?” she inquires. “I talk to their agents on the phone and get a little starstruck.”
“Well, he’s one of the nicest people on the planet,” you point out, referring to Pedro Pascal sitting behind you. “And, at the end of the day, they’re still people. Well-known and sometimes really mean, but they’re customers, just like the small population of Los Angeles that we serve for a few hours every morning.”
“Speaking of that, I need to get back to the people in the LA Times about the feature they want to do on the bakery. Do you want to do it?”
You stop by a tray of cookies and sigh. “I don’t know. Part of me says yes, but then the side that isn’t caught up in the business wonders if it’s worth it to get longer lines and higher wait times.”
“Did you talk to your super-secret boyfriend about it?”
“I did. He wasn’t much help, basically said to do what I thought was right. Just… tell them not right now. If they take that as a no, that’s fine.”
Kasey nods and jots a note in her always-present journal before she notices the whiteboard where you make plans for tastings and events.
“Is all of that for the LAPD luncheon you’re catering?” she inquires, wide-eyed at the quantity and quality of items. “You know they’re paying a flat rate, right?”
“Kasey, I’m going to tell you a secret,” you reply as you slip your apron over your head. “My ‘super-secret boyfriend’ that you constantly ask about… He’s a cop. And my husband.”
“That explains the Madagascan vanilla shortbread cookies,” she mumbles. “Wait, can I meet him?”
“Me first!” one of your regular celebrities yells from the dining area.
You roll your eyes in amusement and then begin working on the croissants for the sandwiches and the dulce de leche cake for Mid-Wilshire’s annual officer appreciation party.
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“This is Officer Thorsen,” Kasey introduces as you exit your car at the police station.
“Aaron,” you greet, welcoming his hug.
“Please tell me the department sprung for my favourite,” he replies.
“I might have thrown in a few goodies.”
“You are the best. I was honestly surprised when I heard they’d chosen your bakery.”
You shake your head at Kasey to remind her not to say anything. To her surprise, they didn’t contract with you because your husband works here, just because of your reputation in Los Angeles. The people working in this station don’t even know you have a relationship with one of their own, so your expanded menu should appear to be a nice surprise, showing your appreciation for the brave men and women who keep you and your city safe.
“This is my watch commander, Wade Grey,” Aaron introduces.
“Nice to meet you,” you offer as you shake his hand.
“You, too. My wife has been wanting to visit your bakery, but we never seem to make it in time,” he replies.
“I’ve got some extras packed away in the van if you’d like to take her something. It’s the least I can do.”
“Baker to the stars… how do you like dealing with so many high profile people every day?”
“Most of them are great, just looking for a place to eat some carbs without the paparazzi. There are a few that I try not to have availability for, of course, but it’s the baking that I really love. My assistant handles most of the people side of things.”
“Well, we can’t thank you, and Kasey, of course, enough for fitting us into your schedule. We’ve been looking forward to it for a while.”
“Of course. I hope you don’t mind but I did throw in some free treats, just my way of saying thank you.”
“That’s incredibly kind of you. Let me know if you need any help setting up or finding anything.”
“Thank you, Sergeant Grey.”
After he returns to his duties, you try to let Aaron return to work, but he insists on helping you set up. Thirty minutes later, the bullpen has been turned into a space of food, appreciation, and more cakes and cupcakes than you remember making.
“I thought you said a few freebies?” Aaron murmurs. “Did you leave anything in the bakery?”
“I hope so. Ryan Reynolds will be a little disappointed if I didn’t,” you respond lightly. “I think I’m done here. Thanks for your help, Aaron.”
“Of course- I’m sorry, Ryan Reynolds?”
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
Someone gasps, and a moment later, Officer Chen runs up to Aaron’s side and smiles as she says your name.
“I watched the Food Network special on your bakery,” she exclaims. “I’ve never been more excited to eat in my life.”
“I hope you enjoy it,” you reply. “Thank you for all you do.”
“You might want to get food now, Lucy. It looks like a lot but it won’t last forever,” Aaron suggests.
“Precisely my plan,” Wade agrees as he exits his office. “It looks great.”
Standing back, you watch officers come in, chat with one another, and get plates of food and treats.
“That’s a lot of cake,” someone says behind you.
“It’s like you’re trying to set up the joke, Tim,” you respond without turning.
His fingers dance across your back before he moves to stand beside you.
“Too much?” you ask.
“No. I for one appreciate it. I’m glad my getting shot at equals roughly that much cake.”
You lean sideways to hit Tim with your shoulder, and he smiles as he rights himself. He moves away from you when he sees several officers walking toward you with cake and cookies on their plates.
“This is by far the most delicious cake I’ve ever had,” one says. “My mother-in-law is throwing me and my husband an anniversary party and if I have this cake, I’ll actually go.”
“She’s booked through spring of 2027,” Tim interjects. “So, unless you want to get on the waiting list for a tenth anniversary cake, it’s not gonna happen. Tell Mrs. Evers you can’t make it.”
“2027?” the woman beside her muses. “Good for you.”
“Thank you,” you answer. “You all have much more important jobs than me, though. Maybe my assistant can fit you in, so you don’t have to miss your own party.”
“See, Timothy? That’s what being nice gets you,” Angela taunts.
“Well, he’s actually the reason I even brought that cake,” you point out.
Angela cocks her head slightly, her fork halfway between her plate and her mouth as she looks from Tim back to you. The woman beside her, who you assume is Nyla Harper based on Tim’s detailed stories, watches you with similar interest.
“It’s not even my favourite,” Tim grumbles.
“Don’t start with me, Bradford.”
“You made me taste test a bunch of stuff last weekend and I told you it’s good but not Malibu Rum cake good. There is no Malibu Rum cake.”
“Tim, she brought way more than we expected,” Lucy says as she joins your small circle. “Be nice.”
Tim sees your smile and rolls his eyes. Kasey walks by, on the phone with assumably another agent, and passes you three small boxes.
“For you,” you tell Tim. “Though I’m not sure you deserve it now.”
He sees your writing on the corner above the clear plastic top, Malibu Rum <3, and tugs your belt loop to reach a plastic fork on the table behind you.
“Officer Chen, this is for you,” you say, passing her a box. “And this one is for Aaron, who-“
“I’m here. Don’t give it away,” Aaron says, seeming to appear out of nowhere to take the box of his favourite cake with a new cookie.
“Maybe I should get on your waiting list,” Angela muses as she finishes her slice of cake.
“You can jump the line,” you promise.
“What do I do to get Bradford’s taste testing position?” Nyla inquires. “Because if everything you make is a quarter as good as that Pumpkin Maple Biscotti cupcake was, I’ll do anything.”
“I think that privilege is limited to marriage,” you explain with a frown. “But next time I make an entire test batch, I’ll bring some by.”
Sergeant Grey stops behind the three silent women standing before you. They watch you, ignoring Tim as he enjoys his cake.
“So…” Angela begins before shaking her head.
“You bake for celebrities, and you’re married to Tim Bradford?” Lucy inquires.
“You turned down my proposals for him?” Aaron interjects, his brows furrowed together as he returns with a croissant sandwich (after his cake, you notice and make a mental note to tell his mom to watch his reaction).
“One, you proposed just because you like the way a caramel apple souffle tasted, and two, I was already married to Tim,” you reply. “Which seems to be very surprising for some reason.”
“Why didn’t you tell me when I said I wanted to hire her for this?” Wade asks Tim.
Tim shrugs and says, “I didn’t think she’d work you in regardless. Kasey and I told her to charge double.”
“Hypothetically,” Nyla begins, “if I invite you over for dinner and ask for your help, would you cook like this?”
“She wouldn’t help,” Tim answers. You elbow him gently and say, “Of course. It’s the only way I can cook, I think. I prefer baking though.”
“I have so many questions,” Angela murmurs.
“Me too,” Lucy agrees. “Like where’s the farthest place someone has come from to eat at your bakery? Are you allowed to say names?”
“Most of the time I can, after they’ve left, of course. And I think Chris Hemsworth coming from Australia was the farthest.”
“I can’t believe we didn’t know Tim was married,” Nyla points out.
“Yeah, yeah, you can ask questions later,” Tim interrupts.
“We can?” Lucy asks excitedly.
“You can ask, didn’t say I’d answer.”
Tim takes your hand and pulls you away from them, but you wave over your shoulder and thank them once more before you’re in the privacy of a hallway.
“I could fit Angela in,” you tell him.
“Don’t really care,” he admits – honest and blunt as ever – before he kisses you.
“You taste like cake,” you whisper as you pull back.
“What time will you be home tonight?”
“Probably before you. I’ve got an appointment at three and then I’m done. You?”
“Around six. I’ll bring dinner?”
“You’ve got a deal, Mr. Bradford.”
“And you want me to give Angela and Lucy your number,” he guesses, squeezing your waist playfully.
“Smart and handsome! Yes, please, oh and Nyla and Wade. I need to make sure his wife gets to come in, apparently she’s been trying.”
“Isn’t this Kasey’s job?”
“Kasey is mad that I didn’t tell her I was married, and you have to see them all the time. Be nice and help me out and I’ll bring more of the rum cake home.”
Tim kisses you once more before you leave the station to prepare for your next celebrity visit. His subsequent interrogation at the station makes him more eager to get home to you. When he finally walks in with your favourite takeout, welcomed by the smell of brown sugar and butter, Tim knows he’s home.
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angelbarelywrites · 7 months ago
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♡ slashers scenarios | you’re almost a victim… (part 2)
♡ fandoms; House of Wax, Scream (kinda), Hannibal/Silence of the Lambs, Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)
♡ characters; Bo Sinclair, Danny Johnson, Hannibal Lecter
♡ reader; gender neutral
♡ cw; mentions of violence and cannibalism, kidnapping, stalking, suggestive content
♡ notes; I’m kinda surprised this prompt won out for a part 2 but very happy lol, I had some fun ideas.
the whole gang is not here, just some kinda kinky guys again- I feel like this doesn’t work super well for every single slasher? only some of them are psychopaths AND perverts
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
Bo Sinclair
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> bo was having a rough day
> your friends had been putting up one hell of a fight, killing the first four was a huge pain in ass
> so by the time there’s only two of you left, he hasn’t even gotten a proper look at you
> it’s not until you come back to the gas station, wide eyed and begging for help that he finally notices you
> god you’re cute- you can be last
> he drops the nice guy act and gets you to the chair- rough as always and threatening you the whole way
> but then he notices it’s all a lot easier than usual today
> he glances up and can’t help but grin
> your cheeks are bright red and your chest heaving- you like being restrained
> “i’ll be good- promise—“ you mumble before he can be a smart ass
> he gags you anyways, but he praises you as you open your mouth for him to stuff the rag it in
> he can hear you whimper as he does and he’s just itching to leave so he can come back
> he leans over, one hand planted between your legs to steady himself
> he can hear your breathing catch as he simply kisses your forehead, snickering as he leaves
> you were really something
> a pretty, obedient little something that would last way longer than a day if you kept it up
Danny Johnson
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> he’s worried you saw the flash of his camera through your window that morning
> he’s normally so careful, he can’t believe he slipped up like that- honestly he’s surprised you didn’t call the cops
> you must have been too groggy, or maybe it wasn’t as dark as he thought it was at the time. maybe you noticed but didn’t put two and two together
> he needs to kill you soon anyways. he’s been watching for a while, and he’s wasting time
> he settles back into his usual spot where he can see perfectly into your bedroom
> he sees you frown just a tad as you pick up the phone call from an “unknown number” - but you still pick up
> “Hi there, doll .”
> he’s called you more than once, this “ghost voice” that’s been terrorizing you- and god is it a nice voice
> a nice voice that says vile things. some of them just violent, some…well some things you like too much
> you can see you make an expression he doesn’t expect. you bite your lip, cheeks pink
> he’s seen that look before…not for Ghostface, of course, but for Danny
> you were easy enough to befriend, and it just gave him more opportunities to keep tabs on you
> like most people he charms, you clearly have a crush on him, and that little lip bite is about the same face you make when he flirts
> maybe he’s just seeing things
> you couldn’t be that perfect.if you were he would have to keep you around
> he continues on and on, observing you carefully
> and you just keep getting more and more flustered, even when he’s threatening to choke you stupid
> “you know you’re so cute when you blush like that,”
> what you say next comes just about as close to scaring him as you can get
> “Thank you, Danny.”
Hannibal Lecter
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> you weren’t quite as close to victimhood as one might assume
> but he was a fast killer once he had a mark set- you had to impress him more than a bit to be considered and then ruled out
> you start as his patient
> you’re a meek thing, easy to read and fragile
> you’re practically asking to become an entree
> if you taste as good as you look, you’d be his best dish yet
> it’s not hard to get you alone outside of an appointment
> you’re delighted when he invites you to a dinner party- you’ve heard great things about his little get togethers
> and he even lets you help him get ready, setting the tables
> the conversation become macabre as you discuss some recent murders that police suspected were committed by a cannibal
> that he committed for the sake of the dinner party, naturally
> he corners you before you can realize it - he likes playing cat and mouse
> you giggle nervously and look up at him
> he’s got a hand on the wall above you, and he notices your eyes linger on his toned forearms
> many patients and victims have crushes on him, it’s not surprising or a deterrent
> though it surprised him the gristly conversation wasn’t bothering you
> “yknow, it must be nice to know you’re safe from that serial killer in the neighborhood. If he is a cannibal, he’s most likely to chose someone more sedentary.”
> you leave him there, as if you hadn’t said something so delightfully offputting to find a vase for the table
> maybe he could do some further studying….
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spyret-the-shitposter · 3 months ago
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and now it's time to play WOULD GRAVITY FALLS CHARACTERS RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS (pre-weirdmageddon) (non gravity falls fans take this as a sign.)
DIPPER PINES - not sure he'd understand the concept immediately, but would catch on quick because he understands what it's like not being called something you want to be called
MABEL PINES - YES. no question about it. there's so many things i could say here. she'd correct herself for THINKING the wrong pronouns.
STANLEY PINES - understands and correctly genders you for all the wrong, crime-related reasons! bro is the king of preferred names. you say "hey i'm actually exam/ple" and he'll be like "AH. I GET IT. WINK. DO YOU ALSO WANT TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN THE COPS ARE IN TOWN" like i cant overstate this. if you say hey i want to change my identity he will pull out a stack of fake IDs and have you pick one. he's a little confused but he got the spirit!
STANFORD PINES - if you ever need a guy to not grasp a modern-day concept, call this guy! he'd do his best, but only because he wants to be nice. he does Not understand. give him a little bit of systematic exposure and he'll get it! he will take a scientific approach! but he'll get it! somebody get this man 2024ccs of woke liberalism stat
SOOS RAMIREZ - calls you dude and bro. does not call you anything but dude and bro. he knows what you are and he respects that! but let's be real honest here.
WENDY CORDUROY - incredibly supportive and super chill. if you were still in the closet, she'd do the mouth zip motion thing. you get it. she's so awesome about you
WADDLES - oink?
GIDEON GLEEFUL - yes to your face! no behind closed doors. he'd probably call you "that queer" while villain monologuing in his room . i can hear it in his voice
BUD GLEEFUL - THE gravity falls homophobic youth pastor let's be for real he'd say "it's not too late to turn to God" as a christian trans person i'm pretty sure God thinks about lgbtq+ kids and fraudulent capitalists on two separate ends of a very long line
SHERIFF BLUBS & DEPUTY DURLAND - do i even have to say it. i'm gonna say it. solid top and DEAD SERIOUS bottom. they ARE the loud and proud gravity falls lgbtq+ community. if they're transphobic i'll eat my socks.
CANDY CHIU - i know what you guys are thinking . "oh candy's so sweet of course she'd respect your pronouns!" CANDY MOTHERFUCKING CHIU WILL NOT ONLY RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS, BUT SHE WILL GO OUT OF HER WAY TO USE THEM AT ANY POSSIBLE MOMENT. if she sees somewhere to say your pronouns, she will DO it. because she LOVES YOU. and also she'd fight anyone who gets it wrong!
GRENDA GRENDINATOR - trans. she loves you. will help candy fight anybody who gets your pronouns wrong.
FIDDLEFORD MCGUCKET - honestly this is a hard one. he could ACKNOWLEDGE! your pronouns! but other than that i'm not sure. pre-memory wipe, i think he'd feel a little weird about it, but it would become nothing to him eventually
PACIFICA NORTHWEST - "ew. what the fuck." and then suddenly she's asking you how you figured that out. For No Reason
ROBBIE VALENTINO - calls you a faggot. is it because he is homophobic? because he is one? because he hates you specifically? the world will never know
BLENDIN BLANDIN - he lives in the year 207̃012. i find it hard to believe they haven't made respecting pronouns mandatory yet.
AGENTS POWERS & TRIGGER - are the pronouns on your legal documents????? it's not funny stop laughign
TYLER CUTEBIKER - gay. his pronouns are get/it. he will respect you (in his own ways)
LAZY SUSAN - forgets you had the wrong pronouns in the first place. she respects you by default
TIME BABY - does not refer to you
BILL CIPHER - he would call you your preferred pronouns but DON'T get it twisted. he does not respect you as a living thing. it isn't bigoted (that would be ironic considering that whole sixer thing) he just doesn't. maybe he'd make HEAVY fun of you for good measure but he's got to dig at somebody somehow. also were pronouns even real in his dimension anything could happen man ????
SHMEBULOCK - shmebulock
(did i forget anybody? let me know)
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mockingkatniss · 9 months ago
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NEED A RIDE? - drug dealer!Coriolanus Snow
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18+ | nswf | mdni
warnings and tags: swearing, mention of drug dealing, smut, sloppy making out, multiple orgasms, blowjob, mention of gagging, body fluids, use of words like “wh0re” or “slu7”, specific body descriptions. BUZZCUT CORYO (little bit of a jump-scare for some of y’all) MODERN!AU, p in v sex, reader is just soft but not innocent, intese sex, porn without plot. (If I missed anything lmk).
(not proof read because I was tired, I will fix eventual errors <3)
summary: one particularly hot summer evening coryo sees you riding your bike while he’s driving he’s car around mindlessly and he ask you if you need a ride.
words count: 3.109k
Wanted to thank so so much @swiftiekisses because the drug dealer!coryo au it’s hers but she inspired me a lot and I also love so much her writing that I wanted to contribute with this fic! Also a big thanks to @euphemiaamillais because I’m literally addicted to what she writes and for inspirations for the drug dealer! au too! <3
enjoy and support me with a comment or a tiny heart! 💗🎀
coriolanus was driving by the quiet and deserted road of his god forsaken forgotten little town.
he hoped almost every morning to just wake up and found his rotten little city was torn down by some natural catastrophe.
he thought that dreams or ambitions couldn’t come true here. since his family lost everything due to his father's poor life choices, he was now stuck with poverty at 18 years and a cousin and grandmother to look after. more correctly just grandmother, since tigris left for college just the year prior.
to round some money he worked at the gas station, a literal hell hole in summer and plus coryo was sure he left part of his soul here, and sold some drugs to younger kids or kids his age at school or at parties but most of the times they directly came to the gas station.
if a drug had a name it was mostly probable that coryo had it to sell
that summer was cruel, sweat sticking to clothes and the asphalt so hot it could melt shoe soles, so cruel that coryo decided just two days ago to buzz his beautiful platinum curls off. the super short hair gave him a totally new appearance, he noticed that at the last party he went to sell, that mostly girls bought from him, stucking dollar bills inside his front jeans pocket and sometimes begging for a kiss or some good old make out. he accomplished and accepted that he was just extremely hot.
his car moaned underneath him as he drove, that old piece of garbage was still going on but coryo feared that someday he would be left walking.
it was 7:35 pm, his shift at the gas station over since sejanus plinth took his place for the night shift. sejanus was a nice kid, he was rich but decided to take another path just having shitty jobs during the summer like most teens even though for him it wasn't necessary having one. he didn’t sell drugs but he covered coryo so many times at school or at work so he was ok.
coryo had a small joint hanging from his lips as he drove, just one hand on the steering wheel and both the car’s windows opened since his ac was (obviously) broken, but even the air was heavy and warm that night.
miraculously the bluetooth radio was still working so he was listening to some trap rap music on his cracked up phone, the screen broken from everytime he made it fall while running away from cops or simply on the floor on a daily basis. as the music went on he thought about how the suggestion to listen to that genre of music came from clemensia e arachne at school, but it was nice for once not only listening to metal or punk rock.
while he took another hit from his joint something caught his eye on the road. it was a bike, someone was riding it and he probably knew who it could be.
the bike was faded pink with old stickers on it and you were riding it tiredly, legs sore and sweat sticking to your skin.
your tiny tight skirt was riding up a little showing some more of your thighs and coryo swore to god that he saw a glimpse of your pink panties.
sometimes you bought from him some weed and nothing more. you were a literal sunshine and at school you talked to everyone, being friendly and helpful. coryo still remembers how you helped him with physics the first year of highschool. you both were still young but nature obviously blessed you donating you such a sexy body.
he instantly felt his cock gently twitch into his jeans and he made the smoke from the joint exiting his nostrils in annoyance. don’t you get coryo wrong, he had sex and sure plenty of it but since the hot sticky summer he wasn’t feeling like it to just screw some girl even though he just needed to say the words. it was peculiar how his cock woke up just by seeing you.
he drove nearby you slowly to keep up with your velocity and you looked over to acknowledge the presence of a car and as you recognized the driver you smiled throughout puffed breaths from hotness and the riding.
coryo made a small smirk while pulling the joint away from his lips to talk. “hey bunny, need a ride?”. you slowly stopped your bike, tippy toes of your pink vans scratching on the asphalt. coryo stopped the car too and since the streets were dead he just got off his vehicle to look at you while positioning the almost finished joint on the car roof.
you panted lightly as you talked as you examined his presence. “it would be so nice coryo, I think I’m about to faint because of the heat”. he nodded understandingly with his head to the car behind him. “get on, I’ll get the bike” coryo thought he was going crazy when you got off the bike seat revealing more of your thighs. you collected your backpack and lifted yourself up on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek, strawberry lip gloss scent evident on his skin too now. “thank you coryo you’re my savior” you said before going to the opposite back of the car.
once the bike was fixed in the back he turned the car back on, securing his joint back around his lips once again while grabbing his lighter inside his jeans front pocket.
“where am I taking you?” he asked while lighting the joint to take a long drag before passing it to you. “I’m going to my dads house, it’s near the football field, 32nd house” you explained as coryo nodded knowing where it was since he spent much more time driving around in his free time than anything else. you also accepted the joint starting to smoke with relaxed muscles.
coryo looked over at you while driving, there was a peaceful silence. his elbow leaned outside the car’s window as his slim fingers tapped the steering wheel gently while driving. you noticed his rings decorating his fingers and his new buzz cut hair made his features even more sharp. you took three puffs from the joint handing him it back while caressing your naked thighs trying to pull down the miniskirt.
coryo savored till the last minute your lucid lips around the filter that he made, somehow the sweat made your skin warm and inviting, the blonde felt his cock twitch again and he fixed himself on the seat while trusting with his hips forward. he coughed a bit taking the last puff while tossing the dead joint outside the car. “how's it going in general?” you asked softly feeling already your head light but not too much, it was pleasant. “mh it’s ok, it’s too hot to work or to do anything else, I just want winter back” coryo explained briefly, voice slightly rough from smoking. you chuckled while leaning over to him to pinch his cheek softly. “awww snow wants his snow back doesn’t he?” coryo smiled while looking over to her, instinctively he turned over his face to scratch your fingers with his teeth playfully as you kept messing with him. “by the way, you look good today, bunny, but riding that bike with just this tiny skirt? a little bit dangerous don’t you think?” he asked while gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “how is it dangerous? riding my bike won’t stop me” you felt like wanting to touch him so much, so you placed your hand on his thigh. coryo was one of the hottest boys at school and his reputation made him even hotter and you were a total slut for bad boys.
at your gesture he stiffened a bit looking down at you delicately manicured hand and you kept caressing him going higher and higher but stopping just before his crotch. “can’t keep your hands to yourself now?” he tried to be ironic but just your presence had made him incredibly hard and it was difficult to not stop the car and fuck you in the back seats, your pretty head pressed into the plush of the seats. “maybe I don’t want to keep them to myself” you shrugged while pulling away your hand as he stopped the car in front of your dads house.
he exited the car while trying to hide his hard on while pulling his jeans around to crotch to fix the situation but nothing was effective. coryo pulled your bike outside the back of his car and you thanked him again while kissing his cheek but making the kiss longer. he sighed with a smirk while placing his big warm hand on your hips. you caressed his chest while looking up at him, a small pout on your lips. “you’re busy?” you asked, your long lashes batting at him inviting. “mmh no bunny, i’ll probably just go home, smoke again and collapse on my bed” his thumbs caressed your exposed skin just a little bit above your skirt. “why don’t you come inside? my dads busy he won’t be home till tomorrow noon” you swayed your hips a bit with pleading eyes. “fuck bunny you’re truly tempting but-“ you interrupted him while taking his hand, pulling him towards the house. coryo gave in, closing the car with his keys by distance and following you inside. you were making him feral with your temptations and soft eyes.
thank god the house had an ac so it was cooler inside. you tossed your shoes away together with your backpack and went to the kitchen to collect some water for you both and coryo looked around noticing how the house was elegant and well kept.
he slipped off his beaten up black combat boots and just sat on the big couch. he almost sunk inside it, noticing it was a water couch and smirked as dirty thoughts filled his head.
“the water couch is amazing isn’t it?” you giggled while handing him a glass of water while bouncing next to him making the couch move in small waves. “yeah pretty comfortable” he said as he leaned the glass to his lips not looking away from you for any second.
you then smiled mischievously while slipping down the couch, your knees sinking in the soft fluffy carpet. you positioned yourself between his legs while going for the zipper of his pants pulling it down with pure eyes. coryo almost choked on his water as he looked at you with pleased eyes and a big smirk on his lips. “what the fuck are you doing bunny?” he breathed out a laugh as you tried to pull down his pants together with his boxers. “I want to suck you off so bad so lift up your butt now” your tone was playful and demanding and he did as you said making you able to pull his jeans and boxers down making his pink cock sprung to life. it leaned against his tummy perfectly. “what did I do to deserve something like this without even asking?” he placed his hands behind his head pushing his hips up so he could sink more into the water couch. “nothing special but you’re fucking hot and I can’t wait anymore,” you paused to spit on his tip gently while pushing some curls behind your ears. “and I just know you’re good at selling as you’re good at fucking” you giggled while finally gripping his base. “I knew you were big, shit” you were already fantasizing about taking him deep and hard inside your cunt. “you knew?” coryo laughed again but his breath was getting ragged slightly.
you just didn’t respond, kitten licking his tip and collecting precum as you looked up at him. he bit his bottom lip harshly to just concentrate not to burst his cum all over your pretty glittery makeup and long lashes.
you kissed his length till the base then licking a long stripe back up till you swallowed half his cock allowing space with your tongue and cheek. you started to suck and lick and the moans he was making were pornographic.
after a while saliva was dripping down your chin mostly when you decided to deepthroat him with a fluid movement making the water couch sway gently. “ah fuck bunny, you’re so fucking good” coryo moaned, lust clouding his blue eyes as he gripped your curls to buck into your throat just two times just to hear you gag shamelessly around his cock.
you smiled through teary lashes and bubbles of saliva and lifted your head to just suck at his tip harshly.
“shit- I’m gonna come bunny” coryo announced as you jerked off the rest of his cock while concentrating on the tip. at his words you pulled away standing up and his angry cock just leaned against his tummy as he bucked into air. “are you completely mad you fucking slut?” he said impulsively, the ruined orgasm hitting something into his mind profoundly.
you just smirked while slipping off your crop top and miniskirt. “what did you just call me coryo?” you asked while undoing your bra and slipping off your soaked pink panties. his mouth was slightly agape at your naked body, eyes obsessed. “I said you’re a whore, a slut” he said slowly and challengingly, lips mimicking each final letter. “oh yeah? let this slut show you how much of a whore she is.” you walked on the couch standing above him both of your feet planted on each side of his legs making the water couch giggle.
he was completely transfixed as you opened your legs leaning one of your knees on the headset of the couch. you grabbed his head from behind pushing his mouth on your dripping core.
coryo thought about cumming just from that, just from the smell of your juices and the taste of it.
it was so intense, his tongue lapping at your folds once in a while stopping to suck on your lips or clit while humming. his big hands gripped your ass squishing the plush meat here to push his face further into you.
you were a complete mess as you scratched his head and moaned shamelessly and loudly, hips bucking as you trusted him keeping you up to not let you fall.
“fuck coryo! fuck I’m coming!” you chanted as you gripped his head, legs quivering as your juices splashed into his face. coryo felt on cloud nine as he gripped your hips to not let you fall as he lapped at your juice like the starving dog he was. dying by suffocation from your pussy seemed the only best thing he could think of at the moment.
you came down from your high slipping down as you sat on his lap, grabbing his neck to kiss him sloppily to taste yourself in his mouth. you sucked his tongue, licked the roof of his mouth and even licked his teeth while he playfully rubbed your clit. “mh! I’m sensitive-“ you lamented while pushing his hand away, your lips glistening with his saliva. “I need you inside now coryo” you gently kissed his jawline and neck while rubbing your pussy onto his still angry cock. “your wish is my demand bunny but you’re not gonna come again sooner or later” as he said so with his low voice he pushed his cock inside of your thigh pussy helping himself with his fingers and you laughed a moan while arching and sitting fully on his hard member. he immediately hit your cervix so good you felt helpless.
it was the most passionate and sloppiest sex of your entire life. you rode him like your entire existence depended on it, you knees sunk into the water couch as you bounced on his cock helped by the gentle waves. his hands were placed right on top of your ribs as your hips were too quick to control anyways. you pushed your head so hard against his that your noses squished together as your forehead and your moans and shouts tangled together. both mouths opened, eyebrows furrowed.
coryo didn’t even remember his name anymore when you clenched hard around him signaling somehow that you were close. “stupid bunny thought she could come yeah?” he murmured around a moan as he gripped hard your ass to stop your intense riding. “what the fuck coryo? don’t stop please, fuck!” you lamented but when he pushed your back into the couch your eyes rolled in the back of your skull. coryo fucked into you helplessly, his orgasm close. your back arched and he massaged your breasts cupping them harshly. “shit fuck! I’m coming” he moaned, eyes fluttering close for a minute. to make you pay he pulled out, cum splashing on your tummy and even on your breasts from the intensity of it and you cried out loud from the loss of his cock inside of you. you even laughed a bit through cries because of where his cum landed but then you gripped his ear angrily. “make me come coryo, make me fucking come” she arched rubbing her pussy against his worked out cock. coryo panted a laugh and gripped your jaw with his hand tightly before leaning over to bit and pull your lower lip. he massaged your clit with all of his hand opened while looking at you. “look at your fucked out face, you’re completely drunk on my cock” he laughed again mischievously just to degrade you. he rubbed your entire pussy quickly, slapping your clit once in a while. “now you’re gonna come and admit that only my cock can make you this fucked up mh?” you nodded, eyes rolling once in a while. “yes, yes coryo, only you, only want your cock” he chuckled again while his hand kept going. “that’s what I wanted to hear bunny” at his last words you came, the orgasm making your entire skeleton tremble in pure bliss. you cried his name with your mouth wide open.
when you calmed down a bit he was just caressing your thighs while admiring your body painted with his cum and you smiled while stretching out a bit. “next time you’re gonna come inside coryo” you said it so naturally with a small smile and a yawn and coryo playfully slapped your sensitive clit with two fingers making you whine a bit. “I'm looking forward to the next time in like, 10 minutes, bunny.”
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jezabelle9299 · 1 month ago
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Distracting S.R x FEM! reader
Overture- You came in early to get caught up on work, but Spencer's always here early too.
CWs-Little bit of kissing
A/N- Day 3, very exciting. But this is way shorter because I have to work the next 3 days. 36 hours in 3 days. The devastation is horrendous.
The sun was barely up when you decided to come to work. You couldn’t sleep anyway, and you could get caught up on work before everyone else got there. Namely Spencer. He was distracting, with his cute sweater vests and little facts about everything under the sun. The alone time was nice for getting stuff done, there wasn’t much call for a receptionist this early, so you could get all of your paperwork done. 
It was about an hour into your morning, still all blue outside when Spencer came in. You’d been dating for a while, and while you attempted to keep from getting sidetracked by him, he was perpetually on top of his work, and while he sat quietly at your desk while you did yours, he was still much more interesting than organizing your boss’ calendar and filing paperwork.
“Good morning.” He walked right over to your desk, immediately pulling up his usual chair.
“Morning Spence”
“How long have you been here?”
“Not too long, only an hour or so.”
“An hour, what did you sleep here?”
“That’s not important.”
“I find your sleep hygiene very important. How many hours of sleep did you get last night?”
“What are you, a cop?” You tried to play that as seriously as you could, but the sleep deprivation had made your jokes even worse, and your laughter near constant. “Oh wait!”  He only had a small eye roll to respond with.
“Hilarious. But really, why are you here so early?” 
“I needed to get caught up on work. I have a habit of getting distracted by someone at work.” Even though you tried to put emphasis on letting him know you were talking about him, tone was not his best subject.
“Who?” The genuine confusion from him was adorable. 
“Just this super cute guy. He wears all of these really cute sweater vests, and he’s super smart.”  That got him all red. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was distracting you.” You felt a little bad for saying it, you meant it as a compliment, but you worried you were actually making him feel like a nuisance. But you loved his little visits.
“It’s ok. It’s a very nice kind of distraction. I just had to get a little caught up, and I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
“Why haven’t you been sleeping?” He grabbed onto your hands to keep your attention.
“No reason, just couldn’t. How about you, why are you here so early?”
“I’m always here early, I like to get my work done early, then I can hang out with the team, and then go see this really pretty girl on the third floor. I think she likes me.”  You loved it when he called you pretty. He memorized just about every dictionary and thesaurus in print, but he always came back to calling you pretty.
“Mm. I think she does.”  You pretended to think before just leaning up to give him a kiss. 
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dollfacefantasy · 5 months ago
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Meant to be Broken ♡
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pairing: corrupt cop!naoya zenin x fem!reader
summary: on your way home from work, you accidentally hit naoya zenin with your car. you believe you're in huge trouble when you find out he's a police officer. luckily (or unluckily) for you, he has a few ways you can make it up to him in mind.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dub-con, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), degradation, car sex, misogyny (it's naoya lol)
word count: 3k
a/n + tags: comm for the bestie @nexysworld @gor3-hound picture of naoya by @/sso_s__ on twt
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Your fingers thrum against the steering wheel as your car glides along the road. You match the beat of the music playing in the background. It's a good distraction for you. It was a nice enough day out, but your mind wasn't as sunny and serene.
You'd had a shitty day at work. You woke up late and got shit from your boss for it. Your computer wouldn't log in, so you had to work at the outdated one towards the back of the office under a drafty vent. On top of that, you had a killer headache. You really just wanted to get home.
The sun was setting over the horizon in the distance, the sky a pretty hue of pink. You take it in while making the turn into your neighborhood. Only a few hundred yards till you could pull into your garage and walk into the comfort of your home. You just have to get down one more street.
You're making the final turn on your route. You can nearly feel the soft fabric of your sweatpants and oversized t-shirt when there's a blur in front of your windshield and a sound thud against the hood of your car. You slam on the brakes as fast as humanly possible, jerking yourself hard against the seat. Whipping the car into park, you sit there for a moment. There was no fucking way you just hit someone. If asked, you would swear on everything that no one had been crossing.
After a couple moments, you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out. Your movements are a little slow, simply for the fact that you're still questioning if this is some kind of joke.
You round the front of your car and gasp at the sight before you. You'd actually hit someone. A man lies crumpled up near the bumper, writhing in pain.
"Oh- Oh my God. Are you ok?" you ask him. You rush over and crouch behind him.
He turns to face you, and your heart drops. His face is stained with scarlet, blood oozing from a cut on his forehead. He's got a nasty scowl aimed at you too.
"What do you think?" he snaps. You're pretty sure you hear him grumble something about how of course it was a woman that hit him, but you can't be sure. Your pulse is pounding in your ears too loud to focus on mumbling.
"Jesus, I'm so so sorry," you say.
"Instead of wasting your time with apologies, you could try helping me up," he says.
"You're right. My bad. Here," you say, offering your hand. He takes it but doesn't stop glowering at you for a second.
You help him to his feet again. Once he's stable, he lets go of your palm and wipes it on his pants. A bit rude, but you supposed you deserved it.
"Are you hurt? Could I take you to a hospital or anything?" you ask. 
You try to sound as sweet as possible. He could be as pissy as he wanted, you were just praying to any higher power you could think of that he wouldn't sue you.
He simply rolls his eyes at your question. Your cheeks burn, and you awkwardly avert your eyes. You notice he'd dropped his wallet on the asphalt, so you reach down to retrieve it for him. Once you pick it up, your blood runs cold. Inside the wallet is a shiny silver star. A police badge.
Panic runs through you. The last thing you needed was a ticket, let alone a criminal charge. Your eyes dart up to him. He's wearing the smuggest grin you'd ever seen.
"Officer. Sir, I am so so sorry. Again, please let me know if there's anything I can do to help you. It was my stupid mistake. I swear, I'm normally a super safe driver," you say.
He chuckles and shakes his head. "It's cute how you little girls try to get out of trouble once you see how helpless you really are," he taunts.
You're speechless. If he was going to be like this, you were truly fucked.
"Don't tell me that's all you have for an apology. I've heard better from a mute," he says.
"I really didn't mean to hit you. Please, I'm just having a really bad day," you start timidly, but he cuts you off.
"Stand up. You look like a bitch begging for scraps down on your knees like that," he says, flicking two fingers to beckon you up.
You rise quickly at the command. You hated obeying a total asshole like him, but he held so much in his hands right now. There was nothing to do but follow along.
"There we go," he says and brings his hand to your face. It runs down your jawline to your chin. He tilts your face around, getting a look at you from all angles. "You're cute. No wonder you hit me."
Confusion flickers through your eyes. "What's that mean?" you ask as non-confrontational as you can manage.
"Well you know what they say: a pretty face or a brain, women don't get both," he mocks.
Now it's your turn to scowl. You can't even help it. The expression shows itself before you have the chance to hide it. Your previous mindset shatters in a matter of seconds.
"I didn't hit you cause I'm a woman. I hit you cause you darted into the street," you say.
His eyes brows raise with amusement, and the urge to bicker with him dwindles inside you.
"Really?" he asks, "Are you high then? Drunk maybe? Those are the only other reasons why you'd make such an egregious error."
Internally your blood pressure rises, but externally you keep it cool. "I promise it's neither. It was an accident. I just didn't see you," you explain.
"An accident? I don't know if I believe that," he tuts, "Before you said mistake. That could imply some intention."
"Accident and mistake mean the same thing," you dispute with a little desperation.
"I don't know... changing your story, cause to suspect intoxication, arguing with an officer. Things aren't looking good for you. I have reason to write you up at the very least," he chides.
"Please don't," you practically beg, "I'm sorry for arguing, but I swear on everything that I'm not on anything and it was absolutely not my intention to hit you with my car. Please there has to be something I can do."
That grin from earlier spreads across his face again. "I suppose there's a few things you could do. Don't think we should talk about them in the middle of the street though."
"Oh um, did you want me to pull my car to the side of the road?" you ask.
"Sounds like a good start, don't you think?" he asks.
You nod and quickly turn around to hop back in the car. Alone in the interior, you let out a shaky breath. You had a feeling as to what was coming. It wasn't ideal, but you guessed it was better than hundreds of dollars for a ticket or thousands on bail. Maybe he didn't get laid often with an attitude like that, and you could make him cum quick.
You drive a little way down the street before putting the car in park again. It crossed your mind to speed off and drive away, but you'd bet your life he had your license plate by now. You let out a final deep sigh before the backdoor opens, and he slides into the car.
"Get in the back with me," he says.
You obey again, opening your door and transferring to the rear seats of your vehicle. You look over at him with a mix of apprehension and annoyance. It entertains him all the more.
"You look like you know what I want," he says.
"I have a pretty good guess," you say, your voice quiet compared to his.
He leans in closer to you, nuzzling the side of your head and taking in your scent.
"You get yourself in this kind of situation often?" he asks before nipping at your earlobe sharply.
You wince and pull away slightly. His hand comes up and keeps your head close before you can move too far away though.
"No," you scoff.
"Good," he chuckles.
Despite his pretty face, everything about this moment is absolutely vile. He teases your ear and down your neck with a mixture of his lips and teeth. Simultaneously, his hands slide up your body to fondle your breasts. He gropes the mounds haphazardly, digging his fingers into them a bit too hard.
"You got nice tits, I'll give you that. Think I should've frisked you first," he whispers, "Maybe taken you back to the station for a strip search. Though then some of the other guys would've wanted a turn, and I don't like sharing my toys."
You scowl and look in the other direction. He was repulsive, but at the same time, some heat was beginning to pool in your belly from the combined touches of his mouth and hands. Though just as you're coming to enjoy the sensations, he takes them away. He pulls back from you, his hand going to the hardening bulge in his pants instead.
"I wanna try out that cute mouth first. I know there's a better use for it than talking," he says.
He's quick to undo his fly and whip his cock out. He gives it a few lazy strokes. It's pretty like everything else on him, the head already starting to glisten with pearly white precum.
He smirks at you taking in the sight. "What're you waiting for? I don't have all night."
Reluctantly, you get on your knees on the bench and lean forward. Your fingers wrap around the lower half while your mouth engulfs the top portion. The salty liquid spreads over your tongue, and your eyes flutter shut.
You hear him grunt from above you. One of his hands comes to rest on the back of your head and pushes you down a little more. You suck him deeper, laving your tongue against the underside of his cock.
"There you go. Take it," he moans quietly.
You tune him out and begin to bob your head. Soft slurping noises come from your mouth. Your hand lazily strokes the base. He was long enough to give you a little challenge but not thick enough to present a real struggle. You pick up a little speed, still wanting this to be over as quickly as possible.
He hums with satisfaction and relaxes against the smooth leather seats. His head tilts back and a low, whiny purr leaves his lips. You give his dick a gentle squeeze and suckle on the tip, letting some of your drool dribble down to his balls.
His hips buck up at the onslaught of sensations, and you gag a little. The noise isn't too loud, but he hears it. His eyes glow with desire at the thought of making you do it again.
His hands find their place on either side of your head. He acts as if he's guiding you at first, but he doesn't have the patience to truly ease you into having your face fucked. Before you can really register it, his hips start to thrust upward. His tip rams against the back of your throat, his shaft sliding between your lips over and over.
You give him what he wants and gag again. Spit seeps from between your lips onto his length. Your eyes water as he forces his cock as deep as physically possible.
"Think your throat was made for this. With lips like yours, it has to be," he mutters.
He keeps going, using your mouth as his fleshlight for the next minute or so. Your nose is nestled against his pelvis before he finally yanks your head off and sits you up again.
You're a bit dizzy when you're upright again. It's a relief to get a full breath of oxygen without the obstruction of him in your throat. He laughs quietly at the dazed look on your face, your teary eyes, and your saliva-coated lips.
"You liked that, hm? Think you needed it more than I did," he mocks.
You don't give him any indication either way. You're occupied with your vision coming back into complete focus.
"Now, face down ass up for me," he commands.
You go to move, but then pause and stare at him.
"In the car?" you ask uncertainly.
"Yes, in the car," he says, "It's cute how you ask that as if you have a choice."
"But- but why? I could make you cum if you lemme use my mouth a little more," you offer, but he shoots you down.
"I don't want your mouth. I pulled you off for a reason. I want a taste of that pussy before I cum. If you know how to give a blowjob like that, you must have something worthwhile between your legs," he says.
It's hard to fight off the heat creeping to your cheeks after hearing that. But you still don't move just yet.
"But someone could see... that's more obvious," you try to reason.
"Yeah? And what's anyone gonna do about it besides live with the knowledge that you're a slut?" he asks.
Just like that, you're really reminded of what this situation is. You flip over and pull down the clothing on your lower half to expose your cunt to him.
A whistle comes from behind you. You feel his hand come up to cup one of your ass cheeks. He drags his thumb up and down your folds, feeling the small amount of arousal that had collected there from giving him a blowjob. He dips the digit inside for a moment before pulling it out again. He just wanted to hear the sweet little noise you'd make. He wasn't disappointed by the whine he received.
"Are you on the pill?" he asks.
"Mhm," you hum.
"Clean?"
"Yes," you scoff.
Your attitude amuses him. It doesn't discourage him from rising to his knees behind you in the slightest. He balances himself on the seats before nudging his tip at your entrance and sliding in. The both of you moan and groan at the feeling.
Your nails claw at the seams of your seats as he sinks all the way in. He grabs your hips and makes sure you can't squirm away. He goes in until he bottoms out, completely wrapped in the warm wetness of your tight heat.
He doesn't give you time to adjust before he begins thrusting. He starts rocking right away, chasing his own pleasure like it's running from him. Your cheek rubs against the leather as he bumps you back and forth. You can tell the car is shaking from his movements, you just hope it's not too obvious to anyone who passes by. Though it wouldn't really matter. Even if they didn't see the car's motion, they'd surely spot the silhouette of the man in the backseat.
"Fuck," he whines, "You're tight. Think this might feel better than that mouth of yours."
You simply mewl in response. His cock was sliding deep, reaching all the little spots that didn't get as much attention as they needed. Your breathing turns to panting which only makes Naoya thrust harder.
"There you go, puppy. I knew you'd like it. This is what you're good for," he says as he continues pistoning himself inside you.
You try to hold in your shameful moan, but it slips out anyways. Your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut, rolling back behind the lids. From above, Naoya continues speaking. You're pretty sure he gets off to the sound of his own voice.
"I could've fucked you right in the middle of the street and made you thank me for it," he grunts, "You would've done it too, you little whore. Knew from the moment I saw you that you'd let me do anything I wanted."
You whimper because in a way, that was partially true. You gasp as you start to get closer. He smacks your ass hard while he continues rutting into you.
"Dumb slut. Not so concerned with people seeing now that you're about to cum, huh?" he taunts.
Shaking your head in agreement, you press your cheek further against the seat. You'd have preferred if you could at least maintain the story that he didn't make you cum, but it didn't seem like that was going to be the case. And honestly at this point, you felt too good to care.
He knows that he's getting close too. He can feel how his dick is pulsing with the need to empty his balls, fuck you full of his load.
He goes faster, gripping your hips strong enough to bruise. He's going so fast that it's like a blur. That's what pushes you over the edge. You clamp up on his cock which in turn causes ecstasy to spike through him and drag him to the finish line.
The two of you cum in tandem, you gushing on his cock and him stuffing you with his release. Even with your disdain for him, being fucked full of cum gives you the warm feeling of satisfaction. By the time he's finished, you're practically a puddle in your backseat.
He pulls out quickly, not caring to let you adjust to the emptiness as you would have preferred. He doesn't rub your back after or tell you that you did good. Doesn't let you curl up to his side or stroke your head. He simply pulls his pants up again and wipes the sweat from his brow.
He glances at your fucked out state. It brings him nearly as much satisfaction as his actual orgasm had, seeing how totally ruined you were.
Patting your ass, he scoots to the door and steps out.
"Have a good night, miss. Make sure you watch out for any pedestrians on your way home," he says, imitating a professional tone.
And with that, he’s gone, leaving you to scrape yourself back together.
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comicwritesstuff · 1 year ago
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Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem!Reader
Reader is drunk and breaks into Freddys, Vanessa lets them off with a warning, but of course we have to go back and see the hot officer ;) 2k+ words SMUT BTW
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18+ WARNINGSSS
Warnings: Dom!Vanessa, Sub!reader, lots of degrading, angry Vanessa, punishment sorta, a little bdsm, alcohol, fingering, getting eaten out and cursing.
Being 25 means having mid life crisis almost every day. And when your surprisingly fit, like to drink and really fucking stupid then the best thing to do is break into, and explore abandoned buildings. So that's what I’m doing. After drinking a whole bottle of wine and driving around like the responsible adult I am, I stumble upon a magnificent building. 
“Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria”, I snicker at the name and park super well (on the curb). I wattle my drunk ass around the building looking for a quick way in, I see a window and try to open it, after a couple minutes it finally budges, I open it and climb inside, falling on the dust filled floor. I giggle a bit then stand back up, just my luck I see a flashlight on the ground so I pick it up, smacking it a bit before it turns back on. Fun. I walk around, shining the flashlight at the various cobweb filled objects. I was to preoccupied on the spider crawling across the floor to hear the police officer that just walked into the building, I sprint out of the room that the spider was in, I fucking hate spiders. Apparently I caught the officer's attention after I sprinted across the room she was in, somehow not seeing her until she shouted at me. “Hey! Stop you're trespassing!” I don’t know what made me run faster, the thought of the spider, or the officer. A bit of both.
I run through the halls pausing looking around for somewhere to go, I see the doors to the kitchen so I slam the doors open, and shriek. There was a giant ass chicken, and I didn’t know if I was seeing it cause I was drunk but I really wasn’t in the mood to risk it. “AH WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT” Unforunately the officer was now right behind me, I didn’t realize that so when I went to run away again, she grabbed me. Ah shit. What a great night. 
“Why do you care about me, not the big ass chicken in the kitchen? Oh hey that rhymes.” I laughed at my joke, while the cop raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you drunk?” I look at the officer a little clearer, damn she's hot. “No I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” She stares at me for a second then looks away, trying not to laugh at me, she pulls me back up and holds tightly onto my arm while dragging me out of the building. I should really be putting more thought into the giant duck I just saw but all I can think about is the really pretty police woman holding my arm. 
It’s not until we get outside that I remember I'm really not in a good position to get arrested right now, so maybe I should stop admiring the police officer and make a run for it, while my drunk self tries to make up a plan of escape, I glance at her once more. Yeah, I'm gonna stay with her. She opens the side door to her cop car, motioning for me to sit in the car. She still holds the door open, and sighs. “Look, I can tell you weren’t really trying to start anything bad, you're just insanely drunk. So, I’ll let you off with a warning. If I ever see you come back here, drunk or not, I won’t hesitate to arrest your ass for trespassing, or a worse punishment.” I stare at her blankly, it takes me a couple seconds to process what she said. “So you're not arresting me?” She pinches the bridge of her nose before closing the door without saying anything. She walks around and gets in the front starting to drive, “Do you know your address.” I grin and nod, telling her my address. I started laughing a little bit, for no reason I just felt like laughing. I look back up at her and see her looking at me in the rearview mirror. She's got that look like she’s trying not to laugh at me but it's clearly not working. 
“So officer what's your name?” “Vanessa.” “Thas a really prettttty name.” I say slurring my words and giggling more. She glances at me again through the mirror, not saying anything, just grinning. “So how much did you drink exactly?” How much did I drink? I don’t remember so I answer the best I can. “Yes.” I hear her sigh while I’m looking at the raindrops on the window. “Yes? That's your best answer for how much you drank? Jesus you’re really drunk.” I whip my head around frustrated. “How many times do I need to tell you? I’m y/n not these names you keep calling me” I say in an angry tone. I see her bite her lip, grinning even more, clearly trying with all her might not to laugh at me. She composes herself before glaring at me through the mirror. “Don’t use that tone with me, I can still arrest you.” That was hot anyways, oh hey that's my house. “How’d you know my address?” I am baffled as she gets out of the car without answering me. She pulls me out of her cop car dragging me to my doorstep. “Open the door.” She tells me sternly, so I open it quickly. She follows me inside my house, looking around and taking the last bottle of wine I have left without me noticing. I see my couch and go to sit down then I decide to just flop down, I immediately fall asleep. Vanessa hears the plop sound of me passing out on my couch and smirks, walking over she finds a blanket, laying it over me. She does one last search for any more alcohol then finally leaves. 
I wake up with the worst headache ever, I stumble into my kitchen quickly chugging like 3 glasses of water before I notice the note on the counter. “No more drinking, don’t go back to Freddy’s. I drove your car back to your house. I took the rest of your alcohol and left your keys on the counter, take care. -Officer Vanessa”. Oh so that wasn’t some weird porno dream without the porn part about a cop. Staring at the note I decide to do the sensible thing that any person would do, go back to Freddy’s, even with a bad headache. Since she took my alcohol I'm going sober, and with the one brain cell I have sober I grab a flashlight this time. I also grab a hammer (for some reason??). I grab the keys and hop into my car, then I see another note there. “Don’t do it.” That's all the note said, she knew me for an hour and she already knows what i’m planning on doing, well she is a cop. I drove to Freddys, there isn’t a cop car, she probably forgot about me. 
I park in the front and go up to the building. It would be so cool to get on the roof. And so that's what I do, with my flashlight in my bra and the hammer in my mouth so I can climb easier. It was surprisingly easy to get up there. So I sit on the edge of it, swinging my feet waiting patiently for Vanessa to show up. It actually takes a lot longer than I wanted it to, I’m laying on the edge now, on my back staring at the sky. I only sit up once I hear the sound of tires pulling into the parking lot. Oh shit, she’s here. Well, I mean I wanted her to show up, so what did I expect? Vanessa slams her car door shut, and I mean slam, like she is pissed and it's obvious. She walks underneath where I’m sitting, looking up at me. “Get. The. Fuck. Down.” My face turns pale, ohh im fucked, and turned on. “Make me.” She cocks her head, before angrily smirking and with little to no effort, climbing to the top, I stare at her dumbfounded. She walks up to me, pulling out her gun pressing it into my stomach, hard. With her other hand she grabs the collar of my shirt. She pulls me off the edge, I gasp and stumble a bit, I didn’t really expect her to be THIS aggressive. “Climb down, if you run, I will shoot you.” I climbed down and waited at the bottom, I wasn’t in the mood to be shot. Once Vanessa got down she pressed the gun against my hip, standing behind me, she wrapped her other hand around the back of my neck, digging her nails into me. I whimper feeling her nails in my skin, she smirks as I do so. Walking me to her car, she slams me against the car, knocking the breath out of me, she handcuffs me before shoving me into the front seat. 
That's odd, I thought criminals sat in the back. Vanessa gets in the driver's seat, slamming the door shut again, but not driving. Her knuckles are turning white from how hard she's grabbing the steering wheel. “Why are you so upset? I didn’t do anything.” I say not looking at her, honestly a little scared. “One because I told you to do one simple fucking thing, and you didn’t listen did you?” I don't say anything. “That's right, and two you don’t know how dangerous that place is, I was trying to protect you and you have to come back out here like the brat you fucking are.” I gulp, my heart racing. To be honest I'm hella ashamed at how wet I am just from her being mean to me. I can feel her staring dead at me, but all of a sudden I just can’t bring myself to look at her. I'm praying that my face isn’t as red as I think it is. “Hah, are you really turned on by this?” She teases, well shit, I guess I am that red. “No! I'm not I..I swear.” The most obvious lie I think I’ve said. “Sure.” She says, finally starting to drive. It’s completely quiet in the car. Suddenly I feel Vanessa move her hand to my thigh and move it painfully slowly towards my core. I freeze up, I can instantly feel me soaking through my underwear. Vanessa moves her hand up sliding it into my pants and over my panties. She teasingly only puts one finger on my clit, before slowly starting to put pressure on it. “You should have stayed home brat.” She starts rubbing my clit with the same annoyingly soft pressure as before, I let out a soft whimper, I struggle a bit in the handcuffs, fuck, I can’t even move my arms since they are behind my fucking back. “But you're such an attention whore, huh?” She increases the pressure only a bit, rubbing at the same agonizing pace. I glance at her, she hasn’t taken her eyes off the road once, and she’s purposefully driving slow. 
She keeps that same pace for a couple minutes, before I can’t take it anymore. “Vanessa…please..” I say whiningly. “Not so cocky anymore? To busy wanting me to fuck you?” My cheeks heat up with embarrassment. To my surprise she slides her fingers past my panties, shoving two fingers inside me, causing me to buck my hips, and moan. “Look at you, so desperate for me like the little slut you are.” She curls her fingers, thrusting them rapidly, the only sounds in the car are my moans and whimpers that are embarrassingly loud. “I love all the pretty little sounds you're making for me baby, being such a good bitch.” Arching my back, I feel my climax already building up. “Nessa, I…I’m gonna cum..” I mutter, barely able to say anything before she swiftly pulls her fingers out of my pants, licking them clean and putting her hand back on the steering wheel. There's nothing I can do except sit there, and wait for her to do something again, I can’t move my hands, and rubbing my legs together isn’t enough friction, besides if I tried that I’m sure she’d shut it down real quick. Her gaze stays on the road, not bothering to look at me once, even when we stop. From Freddy’s it takes about 20 minutes to get to my house, so I had to wait 5 more minutes before we pulled into my driveway. I couldn’t tell if she was purposefully doing things slowly, or if it felt slow because of how desperately i wanted her to fuck me. Either way, once she finally got to my side of the car she opened my door and grabbed the collar of my shirt again, lifting me out of the car then pulling me to the door. She reaches into my pants pocket grabbing my key and unlocking the door, after we both get inside, Vanessa immediately pulls me into a kiss, her lips slamming onto mine with an unholy amount of lust. 
God, all I wanted was to wrap my arms around her neck, anything to deepen the kiss but the handcuffs stayed on, she pulled me to my bedroom, how did she know where it was? I don't know but frankly, I don’t care right now. Vanessa throws me on my bed, crawling on top of me. She starts leaving hickeys all over my jaw, and my neck. “I want people to know how much of a slut you are, baby.” Chills go down my back as she slowly traces her fingers down to my pants, before I lift my hips so she can slide them off. She starts leaving kisses on my inner thigh before she uses her teeth to pull my underwear down to my thighs, using her hands to get them off the rest of the way. “Be a good whore and keep your legs spread wide for me, can you do that baby?” I whine, nodding. “Yes Nessie”.
“Good girl.” She says before she quickly starts licking and sucking on my clit. At first not too fast, and Vanessa was planning on going slowly before she got a taste, then even she couldn’t resist it. Picking up the pace, she keeps sucking on my clit before curling two fingers inside my folds. How fast she's going catches me off guard, I arch my back, moaning loudly, I bite my lip trying not to be as loud as I was, not wanting anyone to hear us. As I become more quiet, Vanessa slows down. “Uh uh baby, I want to hear all the sounds you're making for me, or I'm not gonna let you cum again.” I whimper in protest but nod anyway as she now speeds up even more. She shoves another finger inside my tight pussy, curling them and hitting my sweet spot perfectly every time, and I listen to what she says and let out all the moans and whimpers I can, not caring how loud I'm being. “Fuck, V-vanessa Im cumming” “No your not. Not until I say.” She thrusts her fingers even harder and faster than before, I can barely hold it. “Fuck please Vanessa!” I shout at her in desperation, she doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds, the pain of holding it back getting to me as a few tears run down my cheeks. “Cum for me, my little slut.” And with one more curl of her fingers, I come harder than I have before, she lets me ride out the orgasm a little bit before licking my cunt clean. 
“You did so good for me, love.” She leans up, kissing me softly and wiping the few tears from my face. “Can you sit up for me baby so I can uncuff you?” I listen to her, already exhausted from the little she’s done to me, to be far I haven’t even had sex in a couple of years, let alone an orgasm that hard. After she uncuffs me, she grabs my blanket, covering the both of us as I cuddle into her chest, quickly falling asleep. 
THANKS FOR READING HOPE U LIKED IT :)
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thrashkink-coven · 9 days ago
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Okay here’s the hard part.
I think a lot about that guy, so called Jesus, and his philosophy of radical forgiveness and empathy. For a long time I thought that was just a line abusers use to force their victims to forgive them (AND IT IS)
But! I also think about Lucifer and the things he taught me regarding the concept of hell. If I was the ruler of hell and I had to manage all these terrible people, what would I do? Torture them? Give them endless suffering so they feel guilty? Do to them what they did to others so they can understand how bad it feels?
Latinos who voted for Trump, oh you disappoint me, but no, I don’t want you to be deported. Women who voted for Trump, *sigh*, no, I don’t want to see you get an ectopic pregnancy or carry your dead baby. No I do not want all those conservative gays to lose their right to marriage. And no, I don’t even want all of those fucked up fascist nazi racists to die.
It would be SO satisfying to see them get what they deserve, right?
God, I’m so sick of being apart of a species that loves to conquer. We bleed, they win, they bleed, we win. I’m sick of patching wounds. All I see is hellfire.
My friend Taylor Mcnallie is facing fraudulent charges because of an altercation that happened while she was protesting in Calgary. The bitch of a cop who assaulted her not only received no punishment, she got a fucking promotion. I remember during one of Taylor’s speeches someone said something like “I hope she gets arrested and goes to jail,” and Taylor said, “I don’t hope she goes to jail. Jail shouldn’t exist. I just want her to get fired and apologize. That’s all I want.”
Pacifism, true pacifism, like the kind that guy preached about, doesn’t mean laying down and accepting every terrible thing assholes do to you with a smile. It means taking away their ability to harm without harming them yourself. Eliminating the evil without becoming evil. Punching nazis does not make you a nazi, but praying for the death and destruction of people, human beings, because you hate them as much as they hate you? *sigh*
The hardest part about this whole radical empathy thing, is the fact that I cannot even wish harm upon those who want me dead. Isn’t that funny? That literal neo nazi, yeah, I hope he has shelter. Fuck I hope that rapist still eats tonight. I hope he feels shame until the day he dies, but I don’t hope he gets raped in prison. I don’t even want him in prison to be honest, I want him to be cared for, and I want his ability to do harm stripped away.
“Even if he hurts a child?”
God damn it, yes. I can’t add more suffering into the world, even if it is inflicted upon the people I’d love to hate most. I want to take away his power to do evil, I want everyone to know what kind of person he is and the terrible things he does so they can keep themselves safe… and then I want him to be safe.
I want all those terfs to have clean drinking water. I know they hate my guts, ugh, it is what it is. But praying that they experience the pain they’ve caused me, hoping that they die or suffer only makes me more like them.
WHICH SUCKS. This way of thinking is NOT satisfying AT ALL!!! Being vindictive and petty is FUN and it FEELS GOOD!!! That’s why it’s so fucking easy, and that’s why we keep eating each other over and over again.
Having said all of this, we should definitely bring back the guillotine lmao. I’m not saying that we should be super nice to people who are trying to kill us, do fight back. If the people need to kill their oppressors to be free then, hey, I’m not going to tell them they’re wrong for that. This isn’t a “we should all hug and sing kumbaya together! Kindness is always the way!!!” take. If the only way to bring death to the empire is to bring death to its owners, then so be it. Do so in the way that produces the least amount of degradation to your soul.
But wishing natural disasters on Texas, hoping that that racist woman’s parents get deported, out of spite and hatred… what are they doing to you? What are you doing to yourself?
Humanity is disgusting, truly truly abhorrent. I want to be able to look at us and embrace us with acceptance of that. Every single fucking terrible person on this earth deserves liberty, life, and freedom. Even when you spit in my face and hurt the people I love, damn it, I won’t hurt you. I see you as a rabid animal that needs to be sedated and slowly acclimated to compassion. And I will keep trying, even if you never learn. I can’t give up on humanity.
This is the most important and the hardest part. I’m not telling you to forgive, forgiveness is for you. If it doesn’t serve you, don’t forgive. But don’t let people without humanity kill the humanity that exists within you. Don’t let hatred fester in your soul. You’re allowed to be mad, hell, you should be furious. Let that fury keep you warm, but do not become a monster too.
To all you stupid fucking fascist pieces of shit, I hope you get exactly what you deserve. And what you deserve is not death, pain or suffering. It’s self reflection and growth, guilt and humility. As much as I would enjoy seeing you hurt, I refuse to become like you. And damn it I love you, I love every human being on this planet. I love you so much that I cannot become you. I love you so fucking much that I will continue to fight for your rights even when you’re trying to take mine away. and I hate that I love you like this, but I can’t stop.
So I will stop you.
- James Baldwin
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fortemelody · 3 months ago
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AHHHSHFBTKFNTLFKGNFMDM SONIC 3 TRAILER SONIC 3 TRAILER SONIC 3 TRAILER IM LOOSING MY SHIT RN
here’s some things i noticed/wondered/loved:
- i think in that scene where tom is on the ground yelling for sonic, he is wearing a special forces suit. maybe he upgraded from cop to working with gun?? if so i think that’s a really good use of his character actually! he wanted to save a life and raise a family above all else yes, but he still got his previous dream of doing more serious cop work!
- shadow just. has a big ass portal?? like holy shit he’s just suckin the life outta earth and ig that’s one way to do it (or maybe it’s just a ring and i’m stupid idek)
- i’m sure we’ll learn more about this in the actual movie so i’m not too worried, but i’m super confused at the very beginning scene. apparently sonic didn’t change his heart…but he did tho? like he learned what being a true hero meant in the last movie. tbh i feel like that’s enough but hey i’m not against more character development for our boy so!! (also that bit where he’s like “in my lungs” was actually really funny to me, ben schwartz’ awesome delivery caught me off guard)
- GERALD ROBOTNIK ALIVE HUUUUH?! tbh i would’ve preferred if maria was alive, i feel like that would be an interesting dynamic. but also ig that would make it harder for shadow to learn anything so i totally get it. anyways i’m just glad they’re putting a little twist on the story, it keeps it interesting. they already sorta did that with the knuckles and iblis thing actually! (even if that show sucked ass and although that probably wasn’t intentional 😭)
- even tho bro only got like… 3 lines, i really think keanu fits shadow. he’s very soft spoken in comparison to the rest of the case which feels nice. also he’s like the “really bad” guy so ofc he’s not gonna be yappin on and on like sonic or robotnik and he’s gonna take things uber seriously.
- where was my girl maddie :( i think she was only in like a singular frame. hope shes in the movie a somewhat significant amount. i heart pretzel lady!! could live without wade tho like pls im so sick of his bowling soap opera 💀
- FAT ROBOTNIK FAT ROBOTNIK FAT ROBOTNIK!!! after fucking 3 movies they finally fulfilled jim carrey’s wishes!! let the man get creative like please i love jim carrey sm aughdfhfnfmschxj. also love how we got so much stobonik content within that short scene like jesus come get y’all’s food
- shadow at one point says something along the lines of “when we’re done, there won’t be anything left.” maybe i’m reading WAY to into this but what does the “we’re” part mean?? is he working with others? i feel like this is either gonna be team dark or some new movie exclusive character(s). edit: someone made a valid point that he’s actually probably referring to gerald (look at reblogs!)
-CHAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! lowkey wonder if the room therye in is like an amusement park or somethin like that
- no sign of amy :( but honestly my prediction now is that she’s gonna be the post credit scene teaser cus they always do a new character reveal there. first tails, then shadow. and honestly now i think it might be better that way so shadow can have a chance to breathe and show his story in full. i’m pretty sure i vaguely remember colleen (tails’ VA) being kinda mysterious about amy’s appearance when asked, and also the fact that it was confirmed that this isn’t the end of the movie franchise/universe. but ig we’ll just have to wait and see!
so sorry i stated this yesterday morning to give my initial thoughts but then got busy and completely forgot to post/finish it. and today i started (and am close to finishing) a very long edit of the trailer, so be on the look out for that too!
genuinely i feel like this movie is gonna somehow be even more record breaking than any of the previous movies and i am so here for the hype 🙏
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anthonys237thfreckle · 3 months ago
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‘Let You Break My Heart Again’ - Javier ‘Javi’ x Kate Carter & F! reader (angst songfic)
I WAS LISTENING TO LAUFEY ON REPEAT AND REMINDED OF MY HIGH SCHOOL LOVE TRIANGLE SO WHY NOT WRITE A FIC ABOUT IT!!! HERE YOU GO!
part two
prompt: your heart belonged to javi, but his belonged to kate.
TW: unrequited love, angst, crying, swearing, mentions of death, suicidal thoughts (happens thrice), loss of appetite more than once, breakdowns, mention of throwing up.
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Feeling kind of sick tonight
All I've had is coffee and leftover pie..
Today was just the worst. Shitty day at work, your in-charge was being a sweetheart to everyone except you, it’s like the whole world was playing a cruel joke on you today.
With no will to eat, you mindlessly looked in your fridge, the cool air and cool glow hitting your skin. Your eyes skimmed through something to hopefully make your feel better, and your eyes landed on a small glass Tupperware.
Peach cobbler pie.
You sighed, taking it out of the fridge and setting it on the counter, brewing some black coffee. The paperwork you had been procrastinating on started to pile up, and you had some weather reports due tomorrow. You needed the bitter drug, the pie there to balance the taste with its tender sweetness.
You were tender once; you were sweet once…
It’s no wonder why…
Life became hard and bitter once you moved away.
Well, did you have a reason to stay?
After that EF5, after holding onto Kate in that underpass for dear life, making sure she didn’t get sucked into that twister, Javi found you two and called the cops to help you both out.
Thing is, you always knew Javi had a thing for Kate. Even when she was dating Jeb, you saw the way he looked at her, the same way you’d look at him. And Kate didn’t ignore those looks of his, nor did she not notice them…
Ooh, still you take up all my mind…
You almost confided in Addy or Praveen about your feelings. You loved Javier. Ever since you both got super close in college. Ever since he’d always treat you like a good friend would. You ran on this high, you chased to be in his line of sight, craved his attention… You were soft, you were tender, you were sweet. You wanted to be it all, for him.
I don't even think that you care like I do
You were known as the ‘ray of sunshine’ or the ‘sweetheart’ in your friend group because you were just so nice. Mostly in the hopes of wooing Javier whenever you could. Make him think what it would be like to date you. Part of you loved to see his smile, loved the ‘thank you’s he’d give you, collecting them like shiny rocks. You usually found them on your morning walks, giving one to Javi whenever you thought he’d like them. But he just put them in his bag and forgot about them a few days later.
I should stop, heaven knows I've tried…
Days in college were spent fantasizing about him; about the way his arms would feel around you. He rarely hugged you. 3 times, to be exact - on his birthday, the day you both passed your finals, and when he found you were okay after the EF5. You couldn’t help but want to call him, text him, but what would you say?
And if he really wanted to talk to you, why didn’t he already? It’s been 5 years since you both have exchanged a word. 5 years since you two have seen each other’s faces. you had changed since college, no doubt. your hair was different; layered. Your style changed a little bit too, you wore makeup to work, in the hopes of being treated differently. You looked prettier with makeup on, anyways. Just a little highlighter, mascara, blush… nothing too overboard. Part of you dolled yourself up in the hopes of running into Javi in the streets somehow.
‘I should stop’ you thought to yourself as you got ready one day for work. You stared at your reflection, not knowing what you were looking for. Sighing, you finished up your makeup, surrendering to beautification, heading off to work.
“Someone’s here for you in the conference room” a co-worker told you. You gave them a confused look, walking to the conference room, to meet a familiar mop of curly hair - a lot shorter now, and the man you loved in a suit. Javier Rivera.
Of course he convinced you to come back to chasing storms. Of course he said it’ll be almost like the old times. Of course Kate was coming too.
You wanted to say no, you wanted to say you couldn’t, but he came all the way to look for you; once tender and sweet. The prospect of someone looking for you was something you dreamed of since you were an angsty teen. The prospect of someone caring about you enough to come back…
At least you tried to decline.
One day, I will stop falling in love with you
Some day, someone will like me like I like you…
The drive to Oklahoma was meant to be awkward. It meant to be tense. It meant to be hard on Javi. To make him feel bad. For you to act all pouty and mean just because you could. Just so you could if not tell, show him how hurt you were when he just disappeared.
But when he started to smile, crack jokes, retell stories, you couldn’t help but be nice in return. The rushing feelings came back, and for a moment, you forgot about Kate. You forgot about life being bitter and hard. All you remembered was being sweet and tender, because with Javi, it was familiar. It was natural. It felt like home.
Every soft look from Javi made you fall harder for him. To be treated like he once did to you. Friends. Best friends.
You both drove to Oklahoma, which wasn’t too far exactly, and he offered if you wanted to go out for dinner with him and Kate.
You wanted to be hard and bitter again.
As you and Javi went into a local diner near a motel, you both saw Kate sitting in a booth, waving to you. Or so you thought - she was looking Javi in the eye, who had a grin on his face. He sat in the booth with Kate, opposite to you. They both smiled at each other, and you wanted to be swallowed by the same EF5 your friends left in, because maybe, just maybe, Javi would have cared more about you if you were dead.
Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie
Pretend that we are more than friends…
“… just some coffee and peach cobbler pie, please” you flashed the waiter a warm, tired smile. You didn’t look at Javi or Kate, rather traced the wooden table, stared out the window, faked a yawn, bounced your leg.. of course they didn’t say anything to you. They had their little side conversation.
As your face was turned a 90 degree angle from the two, from the corner of your eye, you saw Kate squeeze Javi’s bicep. You downed a mouthful of coffee, coughing after. Javi handed you a tissue, not sparing you a glance as he laughed at something Kate said.
Suddenly you have no appetite.
Then, of course, I'll let you break my heart again
You put your head down on the table, Kate glanced at the mop of hair on the table
“Hey, you doin’ okay?” she asked softly, Javi looked at you for the first time during dinner.
“Do you feel sick?” He asked brows knitting in concern.
You shot up, rubbing your eyes. “Yeah, this coffee made me feel sick.” Javi looked at your basically untouched pie, but empty cup of coffee, and back into your rosy eyes.
“Get some rest, yeah?” Kate suggested. Javi nodded. You sighed.
“Yeah, okay. Goodnight, you two” you rubbed your face, giving them a small wave. They both smiled softly, waving back.
As you reached the exit, you looked over your shoulder as much as you didn’t want to, and saw the two smiling and laughing again.
With a heavy heart, you checked into your motel, took a sip of water to calm your body down, and with one glance in the mirror, you broke down; crying yourself to sleep, with tears staining your face and your pillows, the land of rest took you in for the night.
I'm just tryna understand what I am to you
More than songs, we've exchanged
Midnight calls, sunset views
Over the next few days, you spent them chasing with Storm Par. Of couse Javi went with Kate. She had more genius than you did, apparently, even though you two were both equally smart.
Javi talked to you that morning, his charming grin greeting you along with the early morning sun.
“Dandy weather, yeah?” he nudged you, trying to get you to cheer up. You rewarded his efforts with a small, half hearted smile.
You both had a pretty genuine chat, just like in college, until Kate joined you two. Then again, you were invisible. And the tension between the two was as strong as a supercell. You were obviously hurt, because your time in college was so much… richer. Late at night after curfew, you two would sneak out because you two were the only ones up for that kinda stuff. You’d go to the roof, stay up there talking all night then watch the sunrise together. Now, the only one he orbited was Kate, Kate, Kate.
Then, it was time to chase.
You paired up with Scott instead, being a little emotionless that day, and gave him a respectful nod of acknowledgement. The chase was silent apart from the orders coming from the radio. No conversation was initiated - you didn’t wanna have another breakdown.
For the first chase, which failed because Kate had a PTSD attack, you saw Javi comfort her after they got back to the motel; The sky was now dark, every storm chaser had a bonfire up, the atmosphere was enough to heal Kate alone, but of course, Javi was there for her too.
Your heart clenched. You remembered how hard you cried last night, almost suffocating against the sheets many times. The room was dull, taunting, and the only thing who could have helped you in that moment was Javi. But why would he see your pain and not Kate’s first?
You all gathered around the bonfire - the Storm Par crew, some other group called the Tornado Wranglers, some local chasers and what not. You saw the tall, orange fire. It looked inviting. Your breathing stilled, your body relaxed, your mind wandered.
You were disassociating, looking at everything from the 3rd person POV, the chasers in a circle around the fire, Kate and Javi next to each other a few seats away from you, talking like normal. You kept saying Javi’s name, yelling it, screaming it, but no matter what you did, he didn’t even spare you a glance. So you looked behind, turning around, and saw the fire. Without a second glance at him, without thinking, you walked into the warm, welcoming flames, feeling it consume you, swallow you whole-
At the sound of everyone toasting to more twisters, you snapped out of your little morbid daydream. Looking over at Javi and Kate, you saw her leaning against his side, his arm around her waist, smiles on their faces. Kate whispered something into Javi’s ear, and he looked down at her with a grin. She cupped his cheek, your eyes stung, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, romantic, kiss.
Promise I don't mean to cry
But I get overwhelmed and confused
If only you knew what I felt like
Your eyes stung, your bile rose in your throat, your lungs felt like they were collapsing and you wanted nothing more than to be disoriented, sedated, dead.
Breathing hard, you fled for the fields. Knocking over one of Javi’s beer bottles by accident, you speed walked, then ran to the backside of the motel, where there was a patch of grass. The surroundings were dark, the crickets seemed to taunt you, and your head was spinning. You needed more air than you could take in, your head had a dull, throbbing pain in it, you wanted to throw up, purge those feelings onto the soft grass.
You cried, covering your face and cried. Hard. Your whole body was stiff.
He kissed her
He kissed her. Oh he kissed her, he kissed her, he kissed her.
You didn’t even hear the footsteps behind you. You didn’t even register Javi running after you to check in on you.
“God damnit, are you okay? What’s wrong?!” He panicked, not touching you, though he knew you loved physical touch.
Why would he, anyway? He had a girlfriend-
Kate Carter.
“Leave… me a-alone” you wheezed, hiding your face, curling into a ball onto the dirt.
“Please” you begged, “I-I can’t be down here, I need to go ho-home” you cried “it- it’s a family emergency.” you lied through your teeth. Of course he wouldn’t question it. He didn’t care enough to even look at you. Why would he question a pretty good reason?
Javi looked at you, his face concerned. He nodded.
“I- Okay, alright. Take care, (Y/N)” he said softly. Genuinely.
It took all your willpower not to launch yourself into his arms. But the thought that Kate had been in them more often than you did sickened you.
One day, I will stop falling in love with you
Some day, someone will like me like I like you
So you ran through the fields, ran until your lungs burned, until you were going to faint, running on nothing but peach cobbler pie and coffee since almost 24 hours ago.
Your legs gave out, and your hands embraced the ground below, seeking comfort from Mother Nature which nobody could give you. Your body was folded and like a wounded animal, you let out guttural, gut wrenching sobs. You wanted to unsee it, to pour Javi’s beer over your eyes, to gouge them out for their sockets.
“Make it stop” you sobbed, choking on your saliva. “Please, make it stop” you prayed to the heavens above and the spirits below. You needed this to stop. The pain, the jealousy, the love to stop.
You fell asleep there in the field, Your breathing ragged, yet eventually even. You mumbled, whimpered, cried in your sleep. Seeing Javi kiss Kate. Seeing Javi hug Kate. Seeing Javi move in with Kate. Seeing Javi say ‘I love you’ to Kate, and Kate saying ‘I love you’ back. It was all Javi and Kate, Javi and Kate, Javi and Kate…
It wasn’t until one of the Wranglers found you that you woke up.
“Hey, it’s the girl from Storm Par!” The blonde man said to himself. You stirred, groaning.
“Tyler Owens?” you blinked your eyes open, he offered you a hand, which you ignored and got up.
“What’re you doin’ out here in the fields?” He asked, chewing some wheat between his teeth.
You hesitated. “Long story, but if you can drive me to the train station, I think we have enough time to go over it.” you asked with a pleading look. “Please, Tyler, one favour”
Tyler sighed, giving up “Sure. That’s what friends are for”. You smiled, thanking him.
Then you both disappeared off to the train station at 6:35 in the morning, where Tyler was so kind to lend you a ride. You went over the whole story, since college to now. 5 years worth of internalized drama, not sparing a single detail; He nodded along, gave his animated reactions, gave his input and advice where necessary. And soon enough, you were at the train station.
“Thanks for the ride, Tyler.” you thanked again, genuinely “and dont tell anyone about this” you said seriously, referring to the situation you described.
“Scout’s honour” He gave you his flashy smile “Take care out there, cowgirl” he chuckled. You nodded and smiled, grabbing your bag.
“You too”
Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie
Pretend that we are more than friends
Then, of course, I'll let you break my heart again
Back at home, you delved back into work, relieved to be away from the new couple. Life was bitter and hard, accompanied by your peach cobbler pie; you never really got over Javi and Kate, you just tried forgetting about them. Whenever you read a romance book or watched some rom-com, you imagined the couples to be you and Javi. Sometimes, you’d dream of you and Javi together, as a couple.
But as you dreamed of this, a few states away, Kate was living your wished reality.
taglist!!:
@urbexbat
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angelyuji · 1 year ago
Text
the fanged man
yandere miguel o'hara x reader :)
you bumped into the wrong guy on your way to work :(
warnings! kidnapping! stalking! kinda implied noncon? breeding kink if you look super duper closely! miguel is scary! and i'm in love with his fangs! (you will definitely be able to tell) fem pet names for reader!
i'm in love with him and i need him in a way that is too graphic to describe!
you slam your apartment door shut in a hurry, “fuck, shit, fuck.” you rush down the steps, already late. ‘god, he’s definitely going to fire me now.’ your fuckass boss had told you if you were late one more time, you’re done. you feel angry tears well up, but by god’s grace, your bus was still at your stop. however, as you sprint down the street, eyes only on the bus, you slam right into someone. you’re on the ground just as fast and you see your bus speed away. you groan and look up, getting ready to cuss the person out. a man towers over you and you inch away. he was dressed in a tight shirt and baggy sweatpants, and usually you’re drooling over a guy like him, but something about him rubbed you the wrong way. maybe it was the way his hands were clenched into fists. or maybe the way he looked at you like he was going to eat you. “sorry.” you remember the horror stories you’ve heard from your friends about guys like him, and you decide to just let it go. figuring your safety is better than giving the guy a piece of your mind. he doesn’t say anything to you, scanning your face. he smiles and your eyes go wide. “do you have fangs?” he holds out a hand for you and you gingerly grab it. he helps you up.
“yeah, i do.” you quickly let go of his hand, a twinge of fear running through you. “sorry about getting in your way, sweetheart.” a smirk rests on his face and you back away.
“ha, it’s-it’s my fault.” you muster up a smile and take off, sprinting down the street. you can still feel his eyes on you as you run. you weave between the crowds of people and, somehow, made it on time. you burst in right a minute before your shift starts. your manager looks at you with an eyebrow raised before sighing.
“you’re technically not late.” you smile, proud and incredibly sweaty. “just go wash your face and clock in.” they sigh once more, exasperated. as your shift goes on, you can still feel the lingering feeling of his eyes on you. you look out the window when your shift was at a lull and see the shadow of someone standing near the windows. you look closer and the shadow smiles, fangs appearing, shining bright and white. you feel your body go numb and you couldn’t breathe, your coworker calls your name and you tear your eyes away from the window. when you look back, the figure was gone. you furrow your eyebrows and shake your head. as the shift comes to a close, you and your coworker close up.
“you okay?” they lean on the counter as you wipe down with a rag. you shrug, scrubbing off a hard spot. “come onnn, (y/n). you’ve been off all night.” they look at you, concerned.
you stop wiping and turn to them, “well… i bumped into this tall, creepy-looking dude on my way here. he had like fangs and he was like… 7 feet tall? and… i don’t know…. it feels like he’s watching me. you know?”
“you feel like you’re being stalked?” their face twists in horror.
“exactly!” you widen your eyes, feeling validated.
“oh my gosh, you have to go to the cops or something. that’s fucking scary.” they grab the rag from your hand.
“it’s probably in my head, plus what are they gonna do? they’ll laugh at me.” you groan, throwing your head back.
“at least let me walk you home or something.” you look back at your coworker, seeing their worry. you purse your lips.
“that’d be nice, but you live in the opposite direction.” you laugh, resigned. they look down, clearly in distress about your situation. “hey, don’t worry. it’s probably fine. i get creeped out by every grown man i meet.” you smile. they laugh and relent, telling you to call them when you get home. you close up and go your separate ways. you walk back home on edge, careful to avoid creepy alleyways. you hear the quiet noises of the city: cars, dogs, people talking. you pray that if anything happens, spiderman will save you. you swallow as you speedwalk back to your house. you quickly get back to your apartment, breathing out a sigh in relief. you lock the door and lean back, feeling the tension seep out of you.
“god, i was acting so insane for no reason.” you laugh to yourself. you feel around the walls for a light, but just as you flip the switch, something slams against you. a body corners you against the wall. you couldn’t scream, their hand covering your mouth. one hand presses against the door. as your eyes adjust to the light, you realize who it is, his mouth widens in a twisted grin. you can see his fangs peeking through and you feel your stomach drop.
“the fact… that you are absolutely no one in this universe,” he chuckles, “is truly my luck.” he breathes heavy. he leans his head on to your shoulder and you feel his teeth graze your shoulder, and your breath hitches. your eyes drift down and you see a costume almost similar to spiderman’s. he takes his hand off your mouth and wraps it around your waist, pulling you close.
“please, please, i don’t know who you are. i’ve never hurt anyone, please leave me alone.” you plead, tears pouring down your face. he chuckles and you can feel the vibrations with his chest pressed against yours. his face pressed deeper into the crook of your neck and you can feel his teeth digging into you, almost breaking skin. he takes a deep breath and moves away, still keeping you pressed against the wall.
“oh, pretty girl, beg.” he licks his teeth, as if taunting you.
you can feel yourself panicking, you couldn’t breathe, “what?” you choke out. the hand on your waist, moves up to your throat. he tightens his hand around your throat and you widen your eyes, you can feel his claws dig into the back of your neck and black spots dance in your vision. you struggle to breathe, clawing at the hand tightening around your throat.
“beg for your life.” he growls. he releases a little bit of pressure for you to take a breath.
“please, please, let me go. i’m begging you. please,” you sob and he chuckles again.
“god, you’re even cuter than i thought.” he murmurs. he lets go of your throat and pulls you into a tight hug. you try to push him off, but his claws dig into your back and you sag into him.
“please,” you whisper, “i have a family. i don’t know what you want with me.” you lean on his wide chest.
he pulls away, holding you by the waist, he pouts at you mockingly. “sweetheart, they’re not your family anymore. we’ll be starting a family.” your heart starts racing as you understand what he’s trying to say.
“no no no, please i’m not- i don’t-” he cups your face, rubbing your cheek with a thumb.
“you’ll grow to love me, you’ll give me the family i want.” before you could blink, the man digs his fangs into your shoulder. you scream as the pain hits and you can feel something flowing into you. he holds you as your legs collapse from underneath you. he holds you as your vision swims. “i’ll make you a good mother, pretty girl. everything will be alright, (y/n).” his voice carries you into the dark.
part 2
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