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#Murder on Sex Island
middleofrow · 4 months
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Best Podcasts of 2023
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wack-ashimself · 8 months
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After finding out about Epstein's island, how long it's been going on, and how literally not a single person who went there went to jail, anytime I hear a ludicrous, way out there, obscene, almost entirely imagined crazy idea that has been going on for a long time, I hear it out at least. Because Epstein's Island in my opinion is probably the most shocking fucked up thing I've ever learned in my entire life. Hands down. I could never have imagined that was going on. I wouldn't of wanted to imagine it. But, that being the case, I believe anything is possible. Good to bad alike. Preferably good. My whole point of this post is just because you can't imagine something happening, just because it sounds ridiculous, just because it sounds like something out of a fairy tale, doesn't mean it's not happening. I want to learn the truth. No matter what it looks like. No matter what it is. As long as it's the truth. And that does include Epstein's client list. Dear God how many years has it been already?
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Remember when everyone joked supernatural had a gif for everything. Well I’m here to die on the hill that gilligan’s island could’ve fulfilled that exact same ecological internet niche
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icharchivist · 8 months
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Hekate and Belial meet and everyone around them is scared they're about to be Freaks. Smash cut to them drinking in a bar while Hekate's seething because "I leaned down to give Danchou a look at my chest and they put a jacket on me! I've never been more humiliated!" and Belial is torn between cheering her up by complimenting her tits, laughing at her and calling it a skill issue, or being sad because he's remembering the time Lucifer put a jacket on Belial's tits "So he wouldn't be cold."
HELP
the unlikely solidarity of the two of them. Not because they're horny, but because people completely ignore their sexy messages, leaving them cold.
Belial would totally call it a skill issue and try to hide the fact the same thing happened to him. But one thing to remember about Hekate is that she can feel what people desires in their hearts. Maybe she'd catch up on Belial's heart giving away a different feeling than the mocking smile on his face. Next they know Hekate jolts on her seat and look at him and goes "it happened to you too. I know it." and now Belial is stuck because now SHE'S the one telling him Skill Issues
and it could become a fight unless they decide to team up to have it never happen again, or make a competition to see who's going to have MC stare at their assets the longest.
they'd be a terrible match. I want it.
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jeromefart · 1 year
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added jerome to tomodachi life i cant wait to torture him with frilly pink dresses and latex body suits
also i should probably keep this in the tags bc it’s embarrassing but who cares anyway when i play tomodachi life my brain likes to connect every event into this crazy plot and i map out all the characters daily routines and i treat them like theyre in a little tv show or something and i even write out the imaginary plot in my notes app. so anyway one of my NEW plot lines is that me and jerome have arranged marriage. im hoping we hate each other and get divorced and married again and have like 3 kids and divorce again. i set his relation to me as spouse and idk if that actually does anything but whatever
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fuckyeahgoodomens · 1 year
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The Season 2 Poster Details
From top to bottom :)
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This is a Buddy Holly song Everyday which was originally supposed to be the Good Omens theme :)
Neil talks about it in the Introduction to the Script Book: “In the scripts, Buddy Holly’s song ‘Every Day’ runs through the whole like a thread. It was something that Terry had suggested in 1991, and it was there in the edit. Our composer, David Arnold, created several different versions of ‘Every Day’ to run over the end credits. And then he sent us his Good Omens theme, and it was the Good Omens theme. Then Peter Anderson made the most remarkable animated opening credits to the Good Omens theme, and we realised that ‘Every Day’ didn’t really make any sense any longer, and, reluctantly, let it go. It’s here, though. You can hum it.”
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And there is also the Buddy Holly Everyday record! :)
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Book The Crow Road by Iain Banks. The novel describes Prentice McHoan's preoccupation with death, sex, his relationship with his father, unrequited love, sibling rivalry, a missing uncle, cars, alcohol and other intoxicants, and God, against the background of the Scottish landscape
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Book Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad. An early and primary event in the story is the abandonment of a passenger ship in distress by its crew, including a young British seaman named Jim. He is publicly censured for this action and the novel follows his later attempts at coming to terms with himself and his past and seeking redemption and acceptance.
Important themes in Lord Jim include the consequences of a single, poor decision, the indifference of the universe, and the inability to know oneself or others.
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There is book The Body Snatcher by Robert Louis Stevenson. Its characters were based on criminals in the employ of real-life surgeon Robert Knox (1791–1862) around the time of the notorious Burke and Hare murders (1828). Neil said: Oddly enough, episode 3 will take us to a little stint of body snatching in the era.
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There is Catch-22 book by Joseph Heller that coined the term Catch-22: situation from which an individual cannot escape because of contradictory rules or limitations.
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Is there only one hand or are there two? :) EIther 6 ;), or 6:30 :).
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Through the window we can see the coffeeshop Give Me Coffe or Give Me Death where Nina works! :)
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Azi is wearing his nifty glasses :).
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Crowley is wearing his new glasses, they are RIGARDS X UMA WANG - THE STONE ECLIPSE (VINTAGE BLACK/BLACK STONES) - $435
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There is the Holy Bible Aziraphale used in Season 1 :)
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There seems to be a broken phone :).
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The cakes behind Aziraphale are Eccles cakes :).
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Azi is reading A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens published in 1859, set in London and Paris before and during the French Revolution. The novel tells the story of the French Doctor Manette, his 18-year-long imprisonment in the Bastille in Paris, and his release to live in London with his daughter Lucie whom he had never met. The story is set against the conditions that led up to the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror. 
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Another book there is Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - Neil said said that we will learn a lot about Jane Austin we didn’t know before.
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And finally the Treasure Island book by - again :) - Robert Louis Stevenson, an adventure novel with pirates.
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There are three geckos cuties. Who are they? Pets? Is Ligur haunting the bookshop? Who knows :).
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A mysterious pamphlet, 'The Resurrectionists’ leaflet. (unofficial spoiler :)).
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Also there is an old camera... mmm 🤔 Did Azi made some photos (of what? Him and Crowley, ducks? :)) Will we see them? :)
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Their positions is an homage to the book covers! :)(x)
Will update this as fandom discovers new things! :)❤
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cherienymphe · 4 months
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Teenage Dirtbag IV (JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron)
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Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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➥ series masterlist
summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.
Your rescue just comes with a price.
🎄 ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻🎄
~
“Oh! Well, aren’t those pretty?”
Your mother’s voice pulled your attention away from the flowers in front of you, throwing her a small smile as she neared you to admire them. You gave her the card when she eyed it, and you watched her smile grow, a fond chuckle escaping her.
“That’s sweet,” she praised. “Is Rafe coming by later?”
It seemed like such a silly question because you and Rafe saw each other almost every day, and your mother knew it.
“Yeah,” you sighed, sitting at the island and fingering a red petal. “He’s doing something for Ward, but he’s coming straight over when he’s done.”
She hummed, and you heard her fussing around in the drawers looking for something. Your gaze was glued to a rose, noting that Rafe got you red this time—your favorite—and you swallowed. It was always the same. Rafe would hurt you so bad that he felt compelled to make it up to you, the flowers would be delivered to your doorstep, your parents would gush, and you’d forgive him with a smile…and then the cycle would repeat.
You plucked a petal, rolling and squashing it between your fingers.
“It’s about time he starts getting prepped on all the family business, isn’t it?”
You glanced up as she took out a pan, her gaze briefly meeting yours.
“Yeah, I guess so. Ward has been asking him to do more things lately, and I know it’s usually work related, so…” you shrugged. “Only a matter of time.”
She seemed satisfied with that answer.
“Good,” she firmly said with a nod. “He can’t provide for you on daddy’s money forever.”
She chuckled to herself, but you could only swallow down bile.
“Rafe is upstanding and all of those things we want for you, but he needs to learn to make money on his own. We’ll never give him our blessing otherwise.”
Again, you said nothing, only looking at the stains on your fingers. Your entire volatile future being mapped out for you should’ve scared you beyond reason, and it sometimes it did, but in this moment, you only felt a numbness that was all too familiar. It all just felt so inevitable, so you didn’t see any sense in fighting it. With a sigh, you stood.
“I’m going to take these up to my room.”
“Put them on the table by your window, so they can get good sunlight,” she threw over her shoulder.
After doing what your mother advised, you turned to your mirror, intently staring at the face in the reflection. The fading bruise on your cheek was nowhere to be found under your makeup, and you were relieved that the same could be said for your neck. A deep inhale had your stomach aching only a tad, and you told yourself that Epsom salt baths could only do so much.
You rolled your eyes, lips pursing at the thought of JJ Maybank.
Naturally, you knew that this wasn’t really his fault. If Rafe were a normal boyfriend, you wouldn’t be covering up bruises with makeup and long-sleeved shirts in the house you’d rather not wear. You knew that Rafe didn’t actually need a reason and that no one could push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. Rafe was never the kind of guy to do anything he didn’t want to do. However, with all of that being said…
You really didn’t like JJ Maybank.
Some part of you knew that Rafe must have provoked him. You knew your boyfriend well, so you knew that without a doubt, but none of that changed the fact that you still had ugly discoloration from where Rafe had pushed you into his dresser. None of that changed the fact that JJ was the catalyst. Yeah, you probably shouldn’t have talked to him anyway, but you’d only been trying to be nice.
Trying to do the right thing.
You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the doorbell, and knowing that Rafe never rang it, you didn’t give it much thought. At least until you heard your mother calling your name moments later, and you were forced to descend the stairs in confusion. That confusion wasn’t eased in the slightest when you came face to face with Sarah.
She looked sheepish while your mother only smiled.
“Sarah’s here for you. I offered her something to eat, but she’s insistent that she isn’t staying long,” your mother said, briefly touching the other girl’s arm. “You tell Rose to call me. I have a bone to pick with her.”
They both chuckled—obvious that your mother was teasing—and you watched her disappear into the kitchen before resting your gaze on the blonde before you.
“I’m going to get something to eat at The Wreck. You want to come with me?”
You swallowed a sigh, glancing away and folding your arms over your chest. You didn’t know where this desire for a budding friendship came from, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. You and Sarah had only ever been friendly, and considering the company she kept, you’d had no desire for anything more. Being friends with Sarah just felt like a recipe for disaster.
“Sarah…”
She spoke up before you could, huffing and stepping towards you.
“I think Rafe treats you like shit,” she admitted, making sure her voice didn’t carry. “I know you love him and see something in him the rest of us don’t, but everything about you just seems wrapped up in him and…he seems very happy to keep things that way.”
You pressed your lips together, eyeing her.
“I don’t like it, and considering I don’t have much say, I figure the best I can do is be your friend. It’ll just make me feel better to know you have someone other than Rafe.”
Her lips turned up as she said his name, crossing her own arms over her chest.
“I’ve thought this for a while, by the way, and I just…” she shifted her feet, shrugging. “I don’t know. I just can’t take it anymore.”
With a sigh, you dropped your arms, and you knew that Sarah could tell what you were going to say.
“Come on! It’s lunch at The Wreck. We won’t be going all the way to Charlotte—Rafe will know where you are. He’s caught up with our dad, anyway, and they’re probably not going to be done until this evening,” she practically pleaded.
It was tempting, you had to admit, even if it did make you feel a little pathetic.
“I don’t know. I’d have to call Rafe and-.”
“You’d have to call Rafe, are you serious?” she scoffed before reaching for her own phone, and you reached for her. “I’m calling him.”
Your eyes widened.
“Sarah…”
Rafe’s tone could be heard even through the phone when he answered, and you felt your heart race.
“I wanna go to lunch with your girlfriend, and since you’re so uptight about knowing where she is at all times and who she’s with…”
The other girl trailed off as he spoke.
“Rafe, you’re stuck with dad for most of the day! I want to go eat, and I want her to come with me… Yes, just me,” she threw you a look at that to which you only looked away. “God, you’re so crazy, you literally treat her like a damn puppy.”
She shoved the phone at you, and understanding what was happening, you sighed.
“Hey,” you softly said once her phone was to your ear. “She just showed up here, Rafe and…”
“She said it’s going to be the two of you.”
You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t thrilled, right now, but you also knew it wasn’t just from Sarah and her antics. Rafe felt cornered. It wouldn’t look good for him to forbid you from going, and if he convinced you to give Sarah some piss poor excuse, she’d likely just ignore it. There wasn’t much you and Rafe agreed on, but you did admit that Sarah Cameron often got her way.
You heard Rafe mutter under his breath, and you didn’t doubt he was cursing Sarah’s name.
“I don’t see why she’s hellbent on butting into your life all of a sudden…”
His tone didn’t make you enthusiastic, and when your eyes met Sarah’s, they looked hopeful. You didn’t really understand why Sarah was taking so much interest in befriending you. You heard her reasoning, of course, but this was new territory, and you didn’t know how to handle it. However, you decided that it didn’t matter. Your boyfriend’s sister wanted to have lunch with you, and if it would satisfy her then so be it.
Pulling your lip between your teeth, you told Rafe something you knew he’d like to hear.
“While I have you, I wanted to thank you for the flowers.”
You heard him exhale, and you didn’t need to be with him to know the look on his face. It was the look he often wore whenever he brought you flowers—a mix of smugness and triumph with that small smirk dancing along his lips. Rafe cared about being seen as the perfect boyfriend, but he also cared about your complicity just as much. If he could placate you after a really bad fight, then he could prevent the rare backlash.
The last time you’d threatened to leave Rafe after one of the worser fights was half a year ago. The bouquet he’d given you then hadn’t meant all that much to you when you threw them on the floor. It hadn’t ended the way you wanted to but instead in tears and Rafe convincing you that you were just upset and needed to cool down. He liked to avoid that if he could.
“I wasn’t expecting red, and I was just really happy to see that. It made me feel a lot better,” you told him.
Rafe was silent for a few moments before sighing, albeit with an annoyed lilt. Your gaze met Sarah’s again just as he spoke.
“Just for a little bit. Not too long because I could finish up early with my dad, so…”
“No, yeah, we won’t be long,” you assured him. “It’s just going to be me and Sarah.”
“Yeah, that’s what she said. Let’s hope it stays that way,” he told you.
His tone was clipped, and although he didn’t say it, you knew that there was a silent addition to that statement.
For your sake.
With a nod and a soft goodbye, you gave Sarah her phone back. Her face was expectant, and when you told her you needed to get your jacket, she beamed.
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Sarah had a pout on her face as she played with one of her fries, shaking her head.
“I just don’t get it,” she mumbled. “What do you see in him?”
The drive to The Wreck was far from long and had mostly been filled with awkward small talk. You couldn’t recall a time you’d ever been alone with Sarah for this long, let alone long enough to have several conversations. It was such an odd thought considering you’d been dating Rafe for two years. The more the minutes went by though, the easier the conversation seemed to flow.
However, you now found yourself in the middle of lunch and on a topic you felt was inevitable, to be honest.
Sarah’s gaze was questioning, and you struggled to come up with an acceptable answer. You couldn’t very well tell her that her brother was actually an abusive rapist who terrified you beyond belief. You couldn’t tell her that he’d threatened to kill you on several occasions. It wasn’t possible to tell her that, in truth, you saw nothing worthwhile in Rafe, and you’d merely accepted your future with him.
Instead, you managed to think back to the very beginning of your relationship when you actually loved him.
“He knows what he wants, and I like that…”
It was a trait you’d admired in him once, feeling flattered by how boldly he’d asked you out. Those were the days when you looked forward to seeing Rafe and whatever gift he had for you and whatever date he had planned. That was a time when you’d literally fall asleep on the phone with him, and these days you would be relieved if you could go several hours without even hearing his voice.
“He’s also very generous, and he looks out for me, and he loves being around me. He’s just…so happy when we’re together.”
Everything that came out of your mouth was no longer applicable to your boyfriend, but at one point in time it had been. Without realizing it, your face fell, and you picked at your food. Sarah had a thoughtful look on her face as she mulled over your words before taking a sip of her lemonade.
“Looks out for you,” she repeated. “I guess that’s one way of putting it.”
You threw her a look, and she merely shrugged, throwing her hands up.
“I’m just saying! He treats you like he doesn’t want anybody to come near you,” she said, disgusted. “His own sister wants to hang out with you, and you needed to call him for that? That doesn’t sound crazy to you?”
The frown on her face was deep, and you only shrugged.
“You know what he’s like Sarah. You know how…paranoid he can get.”
“Yeah, paranoid that you might actually prefer being in someone else’s company instead,” she scoffed.
You merely sent her a small smile, thinking that she had no idea of the half of it. Before the conversation could continue, two familiar faces walked into the restaurant, and you felt your heart sink. Sarah seemed excited to see her friends, of course, while you, on the other hand, only had an aching desire to leave.
When your eyes met a slowly increasingly familiar blue pair, you couldn’t stop your frown.
You glanced away, and when Pope greeted you, you only sent him a smile in return. Telling yourself that you had the worst luck, you leaned over to reach for your purse. Sarah was talking to the two of them, but when she heard the sound of your keys, the conversation paused.
“I think I should go,” you answered the silent question on her face.
You hated the way it fell.
“We haven’t even been here an hour. Do…?” she trailed off glancing at Pope and JJ. “I know that it’s supposed to be just the two of us, but Rafe won’t know.”
“Sarah,” your tone said it all, and she stood up with you when you went to pay for your food.
“Stay,” she practically begged. “Rafe isn’t here to be his normal asshole self, and you know I won’t tell.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mumbled, craning your neck for either Mr. or Mrs. Carrera.
By the sound of her sigh, you had a feeling she’d witnessed JJ’s conversation with Rafe that day in their house.
“JJ didn’t mean much by that. He was just stooping to Rafe’s level, wanted to piss him off.”
“Well, you can tell him it worked,” you said, throwing her a tight smile.
Her brows drew together, and she ran her eyes over you, concerned.
“What, was Rafe mad at you for that?”
“What do you think, Sarah?” you slowly wondered, fully facing her.
You could see on her face that she hadn’t considered that possibility, and her shoulders sagged.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m sure JJ wouldn’t have said anything if he’d known it was going to come back on you. I’ll talk to him, just please stay.”
You touched your forehead, glancing over her shoulder and quickly looking away when your eyes met the man in question’s.
“They’re your friends, not mine. I really should go…”
She perked up.
“Well, they don’t have to just be my friends-.”
“No, Sarah. I can’t be friends with them-.”
“Why, because of Rafe?” she incredulously wondered. “Do you hear how crazy that sounds?”
You ignored her when the familiar woman came from the back, quickly paying for your meals. When you were done, you only gave Sarah an even look, grabbing your purse.
“You know what your brother is like. Pope can take you home, right?”
You could see on her face that she wanted to argue this some more, a deep frown on her face, but you witnessed the decision to save it for another time. You weren’t stupid enough to think she was going to let this go. She eyed you.
“We’re probably going to John B.’s later, so yeah. I can leave with them.”
Preferring to ignore her mood, you smiled and thanked her for the invite. You said goodbye to Pope and JJ on your way out, thinking of just how shitty your luck was. You’d never put it past Rafe to drop in on you, and you didn’t want to imagine how things would be if he witnessed you having lunch with anyone other than Sarah…but especially Pope and JJ. You were just at your car when you heard hurried footsteps behind you, and you tensed at the sound of your name.
Unfortunately, the face matched the voice when you turned around.
JJ wasn’t close to you, but he was close enough to where you leaned against your car in an effort to put space between you. If he noticed, he said nothing, and you watched him run his hand through his blond locks. You didn’t know what he wanted and considering the last result of a conversation with him, you warily eyed him.
“Look, Sarah told me that Rafe was mad at you about what I said,” he sounded apologetic. “I didn’t know that.”
“Why? You knew it would piss him off. That’s why you said it.”
He frowned, glancing away.
“Yeah, but I didn’t think…”
“At the very best you knew it would cause conflict between us. Again…that’s why you said it,” you told him.
JJ stared at you, and you watched him blink, tilting his head.
“Do you ever wonder why you have a boyfriend who loses his shit anytime you even so much as look at another man?”
You scoffed.
“Don’t try to turn this around-!”
“I mean, it’s the truth. You felt bad, you apologized, and call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s something he should get mad at you for,” he casually said with a shrug.
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t get paid to think.”
You watched his brows raise in shock at your words, a budding smile on his lips. JJ crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing you from head to toe, and you felt something twist in your gut at his perusal.
“Are you always this feisty or is that privilege just reserved for me?”
Rolling your eyes, you turned to open your door when he spoke again.
“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I mean that…”
You hesitated, your gaze focused on your window. You stared at his reflection in it.
“I won’t say anything next time. Ever again, actually.”
With a resigned sigh, you accepted his apology, opening your door.
“There won’t be a next time,” you told him, glancing at him as you slid inside. “We’re not friends, JJ, and we’ll never be. Stop talking to me, I mean it.”
Your words held conviction, but you felt like JJ didn’t take them seriously. He only eyed you, slowly nodding as you closed your door. Resisting the urge to glance at him again, you drove off, only feeling relief the closer you got to your house.
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It was the middle of the night when you found yourself in the Camerons’ kitchen, getting something to drink because sleep was evading you. You knew that you couldn’t be gone for long, no telling when Rafe would notice the lack of body heat next to him. The rest of the house was asleep, and Sarah was with John B.
…and so that was why you were startled by the front door opening.
You could tell they were trying to be quiet, but hushed tones and the shuffle of feet was loud to anyone who was awake—you. Blinking, and filled with a mix of curiosity and concern, you made your way to the kitchen entrance. It was dark, but not dark enough to make the three figures hard to make out. When you turned on the light, Sarah actually jumped in shock.
You could tell that she hadn’t expected anyone to be up, but even as she approached you, it wasn’t her nor John B. you were focused on. The blond with them looked almost unrecognizable to you, and you sharply inhaled at the sight of him. He was barely able to stand—no matter how much he tried to—and you could only pull your eyes away when Sarah whispered your name.
“I’m just here to use our first aid kit,” she told you, trying to explain. “John B. doesn’t have shit at his house, and Kie’s parents are so anal about JJ—any of her friends besides me, really.”
Once you gathered your thoughts, you blinked at her, shaking your head.
“It’s your house, Sarah. You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you assured her.
“I know, but I’d just really rather not wake anyone up…and it’s also not something I feel like explaining to anyone.”
She glanced over her shoulder, giving John B. a nod, and you watched him pull JJ towards the downstairs guest bathroom. Your lips parted, and you looked at Sarah again.
“Is he going to be okay?”
Sarah pressed her lips together, and when she rolled her eyes, you could see the irritation and anger on her features.
“He always is,” she snidely replied.
At your concerned and questioning look, her face fell some.
“It’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before,” she finally admitted. “His dad…”
Sarah trailed off with a shrug, and you swallowed.
“Oh,” was all you said, your heart sinking. “I’d heard things, but…I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“I just don’t get why he doesn’t go live with John B. or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “Just because Luke is family…”
She sneered the man’s name, and you felt your frown deepen.
“It’s probably not that simple.”
At the look she gave you, you hurried to continue.
“I just mean it’s probably not that black and white for JJ. No one likes staying anywhere that’s bad for them, but maybe there’s a sense of loyalty he can’t shake yet,” you explained. “If he left his house for good, he just might end up feeling guilty.”
Sarah thought that over, eyeing you in the process.
“Maybe. That doesn’t make it any easier to witness this time and time again,” she sighed.
You didn’t say anything to that, unsure of what to say. When she left to join John B. in assisting their friend, you weren’t keen on retreating to Rafe’s bedroom just yet. You weren’t some professional psychologist, but you didn’t need to be to know why the sight of JJ and the confirmation of his volatile home life affected you so much.
The sight of his bloody and bruised face was unfortunately reminiscent for you.
Your feet made the decision for you, grabbing another glass of water before rummaging in your purse for some painkillers. Sarah was in the hall when you walked around the corner, and she straightened at the sight of you. The bathroom door was cracked, but John B.’s voice carried as he talked to JJ.
“Here, give him these.”
She took the pills and water with a small smile, thanking you. The moment was interrupted by JJ’s tone.
“I can stand just fine,” he sighed. “Just give me a minute…”
John B.’s protest was clear, but you surmised that JJ waved him off, getting his way when the door swung open. The brunette was briefly thrown by the sight of you before acknowledging you, making his way outside. The sound of your name in the air got JJ’s attention, and you wondered just how out of it he’d been to only just now realize you were up.
“Here. Y/N brought these for you,” Sarah told him, voice stern as she demanded he take them.
Getting the hint that he wanted a moment to himself, Sarah took a step back.
“Make sure he takes those,” she told you before going to join her boyfriend.
Truthfully, Rafe was the last thing on your mind as you looked at JJ. Now that his face was clean, he didn’t look as bad, but the bruising and cut on his lip still made you frown. You and he were so far from friends, so standing in the hallway while he leaned one hand on the sink started to feel awkward. You were just about to remind him of the pills and leave when he spoke.
“It’s the middle of the night.”
The observation wasn’t the most astute, and you frowned in confusion. When he swung his head to face you, straightening with difficulty, you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran along your face.
“It’s the middle of the night,” he repeated. “…and your face is caked in makeup. Is that one of Rafe’s conditions? Remain perfect at all times?”
You pressed your lips together as he popped the painkillers, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water. You couldn’t very well tell him that you’d spent fifteen minutes covering the bruises on your cheek and neck before coming down on the off chance that you ran into a Cameron that wasn’t Rafe.
“I forgot to wash my face,” was your simple answer.
Your tone was light, unconvincing, and you could tell that JJ didn’t believe you. You didn’t know how, but something about the glint in his eye told you so.
“I’m sorry,” you finally said. “About your dad.”
The blond moved to lean against the doorjamb, staring at you.
“Don’t be. I’m used to it.”
“You shouldn’t be,” you argued.
“Yeah, well, we’re both used to a lot of things we shouldn’t be,” he said, making you bristle. “I should’ve known better. After all…I know what he’s like.”
You didn’t appreciate having your own words thrown back in your face, doubly so because JJ didn’t realize just how much it messed with you. It was funny. When you told him that about Rafe, it made sense to you. That was how you maneuvered around Rafe and so you just wanted JJ to learn to maneuver around him the same way if he wanted to avoid his temper.
Now, however, hearing him repeat that about his own father just made you feel…nauseated.
“That’s not an excuse-.”
“Isn’t it?” JJ wondered, moving closer.
He held your gaze, and the look in his eyes had you biting the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t stop your frown, nostrils flaring at the words he silently threw at you. He didn’t say them, but he didn’t need to.
“That’s different,” you argued.
JJ frowned, head tilted in confusion.
“How so? My dad’s an asshole, Rafe’s an asshole,” he drawled. “Now, Rafe may not be a physically abusive asshole, but walking on tippy toes around him just to navigate his shitty personality isn’t exactly healthy.”
You stumbled back when JJ took another step towards you, lips parting when he cut you off.
“You can’t even have lunch with his sister without the fear of some guy that isn’t Rafe crashing the date…because you know he would just fly off the handle.”
You swallowed down your anger and annoyance at how right he was, glancing away with a huff.
“You don’t know anything about my relationship.”
“I know enough,” he fired back with a smirk.
When your back grazed the wall, it was then that you realized just how close he was. The bruising on his face looked so much scarier this close, and your eyes traced the blood on his lip. Your heartbeat was uneven at his close proximity, and you pressed yourself further into the wall. JJ’s eyes flitted between your own, and when you swallowed, they zeroed in on the action, gaze lingering on your throat.
“I know that if I kissed you, right now…” you sharply inhaled at that. “You wouldn’t tell Rafe…and not because you don’t want to hurt him…”
You slapped his hand way when it reached for your chin.
“…but because you’re fucking terrified of him.”
You furiously blinked, struggling to respond to that.
“You’re an asshole,” was all you could muster up with a frown, voice trembling.
JJ only softly chuckled to himself, nodding.
“Assholes are your type, so that doesn’t sting the same coming from you.”
Pushing your way out from in between him and the wall, you stomped away. You refused to look at him when he thanked you for the drugs, fighting to ignore the goosebumps along your arms underneath Rafe’s shirt.
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samandcolbyownme · 6 months
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Summary: anon request - "Can you do a one shot where y/n does the Estes method and it's revealed to her that she's pregnant like no one knows not even her and can it be for Sam please and thank you!!"
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, pregnant reader, reader being touched and spoken to by spirits, talk of death, murder, etc., fluff with a dash of sexual innuendos, teasing, ya know until they get back to the hotel and it's unprotected shower sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, etc.
Word count: 7.6k | not edited
Today into tonight, you were investigating the Nancy Hall Mansion.
You were kind of excited about this because last night, before going to sleep, Sam talked you into doing your very first Estes session.
You can't lie, you were nervous, maybe a bit more than you honestly thought because as soon as you sat up, your stomach flipped and you headed towards the bathroom.
Sam rolls over, reaching for you, but lifts his head when he can't feel you under his arm, "Y/n?" He calls out, but you're too busy dry heaving over the toilet you can't answer him.
He gets up, making his way to the bathroom as he rubs his eyes, but quickly snaps awake when he sees you getting sick, "Shit, hey." He comes over, holding your hair back, "You're okay."
He rubs his hand soothingly up and down your back, "Little bit nervous, are we?" He laughs a slightly and you stand up, "I think so."
You clean up and walk back out to the bedroom where you lay on the bed, "We're you nervous your first time doing this?"
He sits next to you, rubbing your leg, "I mean, I don't think I puked, but yeah, I was nervous."
You lay a hand on your forehead, trying to see if you're warm or not, but you feel fine, honestly.
"Do you still want to go tonight?" Sam asks and you look at him, "Um, yeah." You smile and sit up, "I think it was just first morning jitters, I totally forgot about it until I woke up more."
"I'll be with you the whole time." Sam smiles and leans down to kiss you, and it was like you needed it without even knowing.
His kiss lit a fire inside of you and you pulled him towards you, indicating that you needed him. He smirks against your lips, "Mm.. I see what you're doing here."
"What am I doing Mr. Golbach?" You bite your lip, smiling up at him. He slips a hand between your legs and slips his fingers into the band of your sweatpants, "You know exactly what you're doing."
He leans down to kiss your neck as his hand works further into your pants, "And it's working." You close your eyes, letting out a quiet moan as his fingers circle your clit, "We have to be quick, babe. Because co-"
Colby knocks before opening the door, "Yo, yo, yo! Who's ready to talk to an old lady ghost today?"
Sam quickly pulls his hand from your sweats and moves off of you, "And he'll be there, too." Sam Sighs and laughs as he nods towards Colby.
"Awe. Is someone having scared feelings?" Colby asks in a baby voice tone as he walks over and plops down next to Sam.
You roll your eyes, "No way in hell, Brock. You actually just interu-."
"Lalala, I don't need to hear that." Colby shakes his head and you and Sam laugh.
You sit up and close your eyes as you feel dizzy, but you quickly shake it off, chalk it up to being you needing breakfast.
"I'm hungry. I'll go start cooking if you guys wanna pack the stuff up." You stand up and Sam grabs your hand, gently pressing his lips to your knuckles, "Sure thing, babe."
"Sure thing, babe." Colby repeats, mocking Sam, "Ugh, you guys are so cute, it makes me sick."
"Anytime, Colby." You give him a cheesy smile before walking downstairs. You did feel odd today. Something was off, you just couldn't put your finger on it.
"Whatcha making, gorgeous?" Sam asks walking down the stairs and you give him a small smile, "The breakfast usual."
He sits down at the island and leans forward, "are you okay, y/n?"
You turn around from the stove and nod, "Yeah. I'm good. Why?"
He shrugs, "you just seem like you're coming down with something and if-" you lean over the counter, laying your hands on his, "I feel fine, Sam. I think I just need to eat some toast or something."
He squeezes your hands and nods, "Alright. If you say so."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
The car ride was different, too. Usually you sit in the middle in the back, adding commentary here and there, but today you had to sit by the window or you felt car sick.
"Are you sure you feel up for this, babe?" Sam glances back at you, "You look kinda pale."
"Yeah, and you're not giving me shit, what's up with that?" Colby turns around and looks back at you from the passenger seat, "Are you feeling okay?"
You laugh slightly, "I might take a nap, I honestly just feel tired right now."
You roll your eyes, mocking Colby as he makes a smart comment about Sam keeping you up all night, "that is in fact not the case." You hold up your finger and laugh, "Now let me nap in peace."
You fold up Sam's hoodie that was thrown next to you and use it as a pillow rested up against the door.
You close your eyes, trying to nap but all you can hear is Sam and Colby talking quietly.
"Is she okay?" Colby whispers.
"I think so." Sam says, but he could tell there was something off about you too. He just didn't know what.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
"What's up guys? It's Sam and Colby." Colby says they do their introductory clip, "Today we are here at the Nancy Hall Mansion."
You suddenly get a wave of nausea, repeating 'don't puke' over and over in your head as you close your eyes.
Sam notices instantly and is right by your side, "Are you okay?"
You look up at him, "Yeah, I just got kinda dizzy."
"Like from the house or?" Colby asks walking up and you nod, "Yeah, I felt a very strong presence since we've been out of the car."
"Nancy Hall is said to be a good, loving spirit, but there is one, her husband who was said to be more on the darker side of things." Sam looks between you and Colby as he rubs your back.
"Okay. I think I'm good now, but I am going to just sit here.." you point to a big rock and sit down, taking a deep breath.
"I'll be right over here, if you need me just yell." Sam kisses your head and goes back over to the camera where they continue filming until the owner arrives.
You watch as the car slowly comes to a stop and a younger looking man gets out, "Hello." He holds up his hand as he walks over to you guys, "I'm Stephan, my parents own the place."
You stand up, walking over to meet Sam and Colby as they walk up to introduce themselves.
"Y/n." You say with a smile and reach out to shake his hand.
"Are you guys ready for the tour?" He motions towards the mansion and you all nod, following him up to the door, "So you'll get activity in any room basically."
"Really?" Colby asks, "By anyone in particular?"
Stephan pushes the door open and shrugs, "I mean, I personally don't spend much time here because I'm honestly scared of places like this, but I was told to tell you that they may or may not get attached to you."
You and Colby both look at Sam and he presses his lips together and sighs through his nose, "That's.. great.. exactly what I came here for."
Stephan looks confused and Colby laughs pointing to Sam, "This dude has a new ghost up his ass each week."
"That I do." Sam sighs and looks down and Stephan laughs, "You would be the one. Alright so." He spins in a circle, "This is my, um, we'll just say there's many greats before grandmother, but this was her house."
"And she's a very kind and loving spirit right?" You ask looking over at Stephan. He nods, "Yeah, my grandma, yes. Grandpa, not so much."
"Could you tell us why that is? I tried doing research but there's absolutely nothing about her husband." Colby looks at Stephan and Stephan pauses for a moment.
"My, again, many greats, grandfather was the type of person to get what ever he wanted no matter what it took." Stephan walks over to a room and opens the door, "He killed many men in this room and never admitted to it until on his deathbed."
"Did your grandma know?" You cross your arms and he shakes his head, "Everyone thinks she died not knowing, but I think she really knew and just didn't want to be his next victim. So she turned a blind eye to it all."
You nod as your eyes scan over the wall and you stop on a picture of a pregnant lady, "Was that your grandmother?" You point and Stephan walks over, "No that would be her daughter, same name and all."
"They like to carry on the family name. I don't blame them." You walk as the guys keep talking, asking questions and such, and you stop at a mirror.
You squint, leaning to the side slowly so you can get a better glimpse of the woman, in a long flowy dress, standing at the end of the hall behind you.
"I think she's here." You turn slightly and stare at her as she watches you, "Nancy?"
The figure nods once and turns, disappearing behind the one open door.
"What was she doing?" Colby asks pointing the camera on you. You smile, "She was just watching us."
"She does that. She was always watching out for everyone." Stephan motions towards the staircase, "Well head upstairs now if you want."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Throughout the tour, you kept feeling dizzy or sick. Each time you felt that way, that's when Nancy would appear, almost like she's warding off the evil spirit that was once her husband.
"You okay?" Sam asks rubbing your arm.
You nod, "Yeah. I think she's trying to ward off her husband or something because every time I feel the tiniest bit dizzy, I see her appear and then I'm fine."
He lays his arm over your shoulder, "You got yourself two protectors tonight." He smirks and winks at you before walking back over to Colby and Stephan.
"So that is everything and I hate to cut it short but like I said, I hate being here." Stephan chuckles slightly as he looks around, "I have mad respect for you guys."
"Thank you." Sam and Colby say with smiles.
"Alright, I'll leave you to it. If you need anything just give me a shout." Stephan waves as he walks to the door, pulling it shut behind him.
"Okay, so what should we do first?" You look between them and Sam sighs, "I think we should the old flashlight trick with the REM pod."
Colby nods, "Should we start down here? Work our way up?"
Sam nods and looks at you, "You alright with that?"
"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever." You smile, "we can wait to do the Estes method until later on tonight if you want."
A smirk grows on Sam's lips and he nods, "Alright."
As Colby goes out to grab some equipment, Sam grabs your arm and pull you away from the door, pinning you against the one wall, "There's just.. something about you lately.."
His lips brush over yours as his hand slides down to put pressure between your legs and you bite your lip, whispering, "Sam.. we can't.."
He bites his lips, eyes still on yours, "We can, if you really want to."
A smirk toys with your lips and just as you're about to answer, Colby walks in, stopping when he sees Sam back away from you.
You look over at him and he laughs, "Please.. for the love of god, tell me you weren't just about to do it when I was right out there."
"We weren't just about to do it when you were right out there." Sam shrugs and laughs, which causes Colby to laugh, then you.
"Okay. Okay. You can do that later. I want to find out if Nancy knew her husband was a killer or not." Colby swings his backpack over his shoulder and you follow him down the hallway.
"This is the living room area where it is said that a lot of Nancy's husband's victims were poisoned. He would bring them here, get them drunk then slip something into their drinks that would eventually kill them." Colby explains as Sam pans the camera to him.
"Do we know her husband's name?" You ask as you walk up, "I don't think Stephan told us."
Sam shakes his head, "I don't think he did either. But I think it's something like Greggory, Greg maybe?"
A knocking sound comes from behind you and you turn around quickly, "Shit."
"Was that a knock?" Sam points the camera and holds it there for a few moments, "Okay." He turns back to Colby and as he holds up the EMF, "We can figure it out with this contraption, right here. This will allow who ever is here to answer with yes or no."
"And we will also be using the Alice box to kind of give us a better understanding as to who we are talking to." Sam adds while he shows the camera the box in his hand, "I'll give that to y/n."
You take the box, switching it on the same time Colby turns on the EMF.
"Is Nancy's husband in the room with us right now?" Colby asks and it switches to red, "Is this Nancy?"
Switches to green.
"Are you looking out for us?" Sam asks and it lights up green again.
The Alice box goes off, "Safe."
You look up at them and smile slightly, "I love Nancy." They smile and the box in your hand goes off again, "Greggory."
"Is that your husband's name?" You ask and watch was the EMF lights up green, "You were right, Sam."
He smirks and nods, "Just that good." He pretends to pop his collar and you smile as you laugh.
"Nancy, did you know that your husband killed those people?" Colby chews on his nail with anticipation.
The EMF lights up green and you frown, "We're you scared he would kill you next?"
The Alice box goes off, "He did."
"Whoa. Whoa. Wait. Wait wait." Colby shakes his hands, "They never said that... it was always said that she died of old age."
"Well that's obviously a lie." Sam says and the Alice box lights up green, "Nancy, did Greggory killed you?"
The box in your hand goes off, "Poison."
"So he killed her just like everyone else." Sam shakes his head and hands Colby the camera, "Nancy, did he kill you because he knew that you knew about what he was doing?"
The box goes red, then switches to green, then back to red, then green before the lights go out.
"I think Greggory doesn't want her to answer that." You look up and jump when you feel something touch your side, "Something just .. touched me." You move over to Sam, his arm instantly going around you, "You're okay."
"What did it feel like?" Colby asks as he continues to look around, "Like a hard touch or soft bush?" You run to Sam and demonstrate, "It was like a hand just lightly laid on my side, like right.." you lay you hand on Sam's side, "Here."
You lift your shirt, "I don't have any marks or anything. Nothing hurts."
"Nancy did you touch, y/n?" Sam asks and the EMF goes off green, along with the Alice box, "Protect."
"Protect? Are you protecting y/n from Greggory?" Sam asks and the box immediately goes back to green, and the box goes off again, "Gravid."
"What does that mean?" Colby asks and Sam shrugs, "I don't.. I don't know."
"Can Greggory answer a question for us?" Colby sighs, "Greggory, if you're here, can you tell us why you killed those people?"
The EMF switches to green.
"Did you do it for their money?" Colby asks and the Alice box repeats, "Money."
"So he did it for the money?" Sam asks and the EMF goes to green, "I'd say so." He laughs slightly and looks down at you, "You doing okay?"
"I feel like I need to sit down." You whisper and look over your shoulder, "I just got dizzy again."
"Why don't we take a break. Step outside for a little bit." Colby says and you both agree. Just as you're about to switch the Alice box off, another word comes through, "Sam."
"What the fuck?" Colby comes over, showing the camera what it just said, "What the hell."
Sam switches the box off and turns, "Let's go outside."
You make your way through the hallway, heading towards the door when you hear heavy footsteps behind you.
You all whip around, looking at each other when there was nothing there. You look at Colby, "Was that you?"
He shakes his head, "Swear to god that wasn't me."
"Let's give Greggory time to settle, then we can go to another room." Sam rubs your back as you walk to the door, he goes to open it but it won't budge, "Um. What the fuck is happening."
"You have to push.." you try it? Pushing down the little part above the handle, "Okay.. that wasn't like this before."
"Here let me try." Colby hands the camera to you, and you record them trying to get out. All while they're doing that, you feel the presence of something move behind you.
You shallow, keeping the camera on them, trying to brush it off, and it was working until you feel like someone breathed on your cheek.
"Fuck." You wipe your cheek and lean to the side, moving over to Sam, "I swear something like breathed on my cheek, like I feel a puff of warm air or something."
Sam rubs his thumb over the cheek you said, "Okay. We need to open this- Nancy." He pauses, "Can you please help us with the door?"
After a few more tries, Colby finally gets the door open and Sam chuckles, "Thank you, Nancy."
"Thank you, Nancy." You and Colby repeat in unison as you walk out the door. You walk over to the rock you sat on before and sit down, elbows on your knees as you feel like you're out of breath.
"you good?" Colby asks as he walks up. Sam sits next to you, "Do you need anything?"
You shake your head, "no I think I'm okay."
"We'll just sit here. If you're sick or anything, you're more vulnerable to Greggory and whoever else may be in there." Sam lays his arm over you and pulls you to him, "Nancy and Greggory sure seem to have it out for each other, still." He chuckles and Colby nods, "Oh yeah, did you see the way they were arguing over the EMF, crazy dude."
"That was nuts." Sam shakes his head, "I've never seen two spirits argue like that."
"Nancy is that bitch." You laugh, "she probably would have ended him if it wasn't for him doing it first."
"When we go back inside, I think we should try and talk to someone Greggory killed. See what they have to say." Colby suggests and Sam nods, "That's good idea."
You sigh, "Well, I'm ready so let's go back in."
You stand up and Sam takes your hand as he stands next to you, "No need to rush, we have all night, babe."
Something in you needed Sam right now, but with Colby standing right there, you didn't want to say anything, "Yeah.. yeah I know."
Sam's brow twitches, picking up the vibes you're giving him, "I see."
You lick your lips and smile, "So. Are we ready to-"
"In a minute." Sam says glancing over at Colby, "Colby walk away."
"But I-" Colby huffs and tries to fight it, "Where am I gunna go? I'm not going in there alone."
"You'll find somewhere." Sam grabs your hand and pulls you over to the car. Sam watches as Colby walks away, grumbling to himself, "We're here to do an investigation.."
You laugh and bite your lip as you look up at Sam. He looks down at you, "We can't do anything, but I promise, as soon as we get home.." he leans in, sliding his hands around to grip your ass, "You're mine."
"Why'd you tell Colby to walk away then?" You ask with a laugh. Sam shrugs, "To get on his nerves."
He looks up over the car, seeing Colby sit on the steps of the mansion, "Let's just give it another minute or two."
"You guys are awful." You shake your head and smile. Sam shrugs, "He knows I'll do anything for him. I just have to give him a hard time every once in a while. Keep things evened out."
You roll your eyes, laughing quietly as you turn to walk over to Colby, Sam following behind you.
"Are you done?" Colby stands up and Sam sighs, "For now."
Colby tries not to laugh, "You guys are ridiculous."
"But you looove us." You poke his arm and he nods, "Yeah, sadly I do." He laughs and motions to the door, "Ate we ready?"
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
2:30 a m
You were exhausted at this point. You felt like you just ran a marathon, or two, but you didn't want to quit.
You still had your Estes session to do.
"Alright guys." Sam says as he gets the camera rolling, "as you saw, we've had non stop activity since we came back in, like what.." he looks around at you and Colby.
"It's been at least a few hours now." Colby says nodding, "We've actually had to take quite a few breaks throughout the course of being here and it's not so much Nancy herself.. I don't even know how to explain it really."
"The fighting between her and Greggory." You say and Sam turns the camera to you, "The two have so much power over this house and it's just... a lot."
Right as you say that, it sounds like walking downstairs, "Listen." You hold your hand out and point to the door.
"Is someone coming up the stairs?" Sam whispers and looks at Colby. He shrugs, "It sounds like it."
"We just-" Sam gets cut off by the sound of something walking in the hall, "Fuck, dude."
It stops and you all let out the breath you were holding, "Let's just go into Nancy's room." You point and walk out of the one room and into her bedroom."
"We are now in the room that Nancy not only resided in, but also died in." Sam says panning the camera slowly around.
"I feel oddly safe in this room." Colby says with a laugh, "Like out of all the rooms and stuff, like walking up those steps, I was looking behind me and shit."
"No I know what you mean. As soon as we walked through the door, I felt ten times better." You look around, "Her husband must not be allowed in here."
"What makes you say that?" Sam looks over at you and you point, "I have a feeling, but there's absolutely no pictures of him in here. Like look.." you walk over, shining the flashlight on the pictures as they follow you, "There's pictures of her, but you can tell that someone was cut out of them and on this one, the man's face is scribbled out."
"What the hell." Sam whispers as he picks up a frame to show the camera. Colby walks around and snaps, "Hey guys, all of the people in this picture are scribbled out but her."
"That's so weird." Sam says as he moves the camera up, "Maybe there was mo-"
A loud thud coming from the hallway makes all of you turn to the door, footsteps following quickly.
You're all silent as you listen for anything else.
"That was definitely footsteps." Sam looks between you and Colby. You and Colby agree, "Uh huh."
"Okay, so we have our REM pod that y/n is placing on the ground between the door and the foot of the bed, with this, they'll be able to touch it, let us know they're here. So with that.." Sam looks over at Colby and he sighs, "Hello, I'm Colby. That's Sam and that's y/n. We are here to just ask some questions, specifically for Nancy, we mean no disrespect to you or anyone that wants to speak with us. You are more than welcome. Just come up and touch that little box on the ground, make the light go off."
A few seconds later, the red light flashes.
"Nancy Hall, if that's you can you make the light go off again." Sam glances over at you, seeing that your eyes are glued to the door way, "Y/n? You see something?"
As soon as Sam moves over the dark figure you see vanishes.
"There was something standing over there, diagonal from me. Just watching, but it was dark." You slowly look over at Sam and the light goes off.
You jump slightly, "Shit."
"Nancy? Was that you?" Colby asks looking between the pod and you and Sam, "Touch it again if it was, just so we know."
The red light flashes again and you kinda feel relieved, "Nancy, hi. My name is y/n. Would you like to speak with us?"
The red light flashes and you look at Sam, "I'm taking that as a yes." He smirks and nods, "So am I."
Colby pulls the headphones and spirit box from the backpack, along with the red blindfold, "Think it's too early?"
Sam shakes his head, looking over at you, "Your call."
"Let's do it." You reach out and take the blindfold from Colby, moving to sit on the center of Nancy's bed. You take a deep breath and look over at Sam who's setting the camera up to face you guys.
"Well bring you put if it gets too bad." Colby says switching on the box, loud static playing, "Whenever you're ready."
You look at Sam and he's smiles, turning to the camera, "I just want to say that this is her first time doing an Estes session." He turns back around and watches as you shake your head, tying the blindfold over your eyes.
You hold your hands out and Colby places the headphones in your hands, and you move them to lay on your ears.
You can't hear shit outside of the static, and you instantly start hearing words.
"Talking to you."
"Are we talking to Nancy?" Sam asks as his eyes stay on you.
"Yes, Nancy." You pause, "You're safe."
"Are we safe from your husband, Nancy?" Colby asks and you instantly reply to them.
"He can't hurt you."
"Did you know about-" Sam raises his eyebrows as you cut him off,
"Baby."
"Baby?" Colby questions, "Did you have a baby?"
"You're safe with me."
"We feel safe with you, Nancy." Sam assures, "was there a baby here?"
"Yes, right now."
"Right now?" Colby shakes his head, "I don't understand." Sam shrugs, "Maybe someone bad a baby here?"
"I promise."
"You promise what, Nancy?" Sam asks, his eyes staying focused on your still body, "Can you tell us?"
"You don't know.."
"What don't we know, Nancy? Do you think you can tell us?" Colby lays a hand on his lips, waiting for your response.
"Sam.. not Colby."
"Okay? What don't I know?" Sam chews on his lip, "Can you tell me?"
"Baby. You have.."
Colby looks at Sam, his eyes wide, "You don't think.. Sam.. is she-"
You cut Colby off, "Surprised. are we happy?"
Sam stands there in shock, "What the.. what the actual fuck." Colby looks from Sam and back to you, closing his eyes, "Nancy, are you trying to tell us that.." he pauses and takes a deep breath, "..y/n is pregnant with Sam's baby?"
"Yes.. I am. Exactly."
You feel tapping on your arms from both Sam and Colby and you push the headphones off, lifting the blindfold off your eyes.
You look between them and they both looked like they just seen something horrifying.
"What?" You look between them, getting anxious the longer they just stare at you, "What happened?"
Sam brushes hair from your face, "Um.. well.." he laughs nervously, "From what we gathered.." he runs a hand through his own hair and sighs, "Apparently you're pregnant."
Your mouth drops open, "What did you just say?"
Colby jumps in, explaining the questions they asked and what your answers were, "I started piecing it together, and finally I asked if Nancy was trying to tell us that you were pregnant and that's when you said, yes I am. Exactly."
You can feel your heart racing as you try to comprehend what Colby just explained, "I-I don't.. I don't.." you shake your head, eyes closed as you take a slow deep breath, "So I'm pregnant?"
"That's what Nancy thinks, apparently." Sam sits down next to you, "You know, you getting sick this morning.. I didn't even think about that."
You laugh, still in shock, "Oh god. I didn't.. what do we do?"
Colby sighs, "If you are.. we need to get you out of here because what I gathered is that Greggory doesn't like it."
Sam looks up at him and nods, "Yeah, yeah, you're right." He nods towards the camera, "You wanna grab that?"
Colby nods, "Yeah." He walks over grabbing the camera as you and Sam grab everything else, "Come on." Sam wraps an arm around your waist, leading you out of the room and down the steps.
As you're walking, something grabs your arm and pulls you back slightly, "You cannot touch me, we're leaving."
"You're fine." Sam whispers pulling you closer to him, "Almost there." You grab his sweatshirt and hang into it, thinking about all the times you felt sick or dizzy.
Being pregnant would make sense, you just didn't want to believe it, not until you peed on the stick.
Sam walks you to the car, putting the stuff in the trunk before turning to you, "you okay?" He looks over your face, "Did you know?"
You shake your head, "Honest to god Sam, no. That didn't even pop into my head, I just thought I was anxious about this."
He nods and pulls you in for a hug, "Well have to stop, get some tests. We need to know for sure."
"I'm going to shit my pants if you are." Colby says walking up, "That shit was fucking crazy." He puts his stuff into the trunk and shuts it.
"Let's go, we need to.." Sam sighs, obviously flustered over this whole situation. You take the keys from his pocket, handing them to Colby, "Come on." You walk him to the side of the car and he motions for you to get in.
You get in as Colby gets into the drivers seat and he looks back at you, "Do you feel any different now or?"
You sigh, "I don't even know what I'm feeling at the moment." He nods, "Fair enough." Sam opens the passenger door and gets it.
Colby and you both look at him as he stares at the dash silent.
"You good, brother?" Colby asks laying a hand on his shoulder and Sam nods, "I just don't.." he groans, "We just need to know for sure because i just don't-"
"We will. Okay, Sam?" You reach up, rubbing the back of his neck, "We'll find out."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You never thought you'd be at a gas station, in a different state, at four am, peeing on a stick in the bathroom to find out if a ghost was right about something.
You could have waited until you got back but you, Sam and even Colby needed to know tonight and not tomorrow or two days from now.
You cap the stick, shoving everything into your pockets before you walk back out to the car.
"Everything come out okay?" Colby turns as you get in and you nod, "Never thought I'd be doing this but here we are."
Sam turns around, "Yeah but how many people find out they're pregnant through a ghost?"
"Probably not many." You shake your head, taking a deep breath as you pull the stick from your pocket, "Should we let Colby look?"
Sam nods, "Yeah, please."
You hand the face down stick to Colby, "I wiped it off, don't worry." He laughs slightly and takes it from you, "No worries."
He looks between you and Sam, anxiety frozen on your faces, "Ready?"
You look at Sam and he takes your hand, "Yeah."
Colby flips it over and licks his lips.
"What, Colby? What does it say?" You ask as you and Sam lean forward. Colby turns the test away and takes a deep breath, "Call me uncle Colby."
He turns the test around and it's a very dark, visible positive.
"No fucking way." You whisper, "No.. fucking.. way."
Sam looks back at you, his jaw dropped, "Holy shit." He looks at Colby, "Holy shit." He takes the test, studying it, "No fucking way."
"In the words of Nancy, surprise. Are we happy?" Colby smirks slightly as he looks from you to Sam.
Sam leans over the seat, coming back to hug you, "Oh my god." He repeats over and over again, "Holy shit."
"Sam, hey. That can't be good for the baby. And I mean the actual baby, not y/n." Colby laughs and you laugh as Sam moves to sit next to you.
"How the hell.." Sam shakes his head and Colby sighs, "Well I can te-"
"Got that." You hold your hand up and smile as you shake your head, "What a crazy turn of events."
Sam lays a hand on your stomach, "I just don't.." he smiled and shakes his head, "Were not releasing this video until we're ready to announce it."
Colby nods, "Oh yeah I had the same idea. So if we're doing that..." he reaches over to the floor of the passenger's side and picks up the camera.
He turns it on and points it so it's on all of you, "So.. as you probably already know, Nancy, the loving spirit of the place we just left from, told us that y/n here.. is pregnant.." he can't help but smile, just like you and Sam, "We actually have the answer as to whether Nancy was right or not."
You look at Sam and Sam smiles, "We're having a baby!" Him and Colby both cheer, yell like they normally would to celebrate something, "Uncle Colby in the house!"
You laugh, "And to answer the question that Nancy asked, yes. We are very surprised, but also super happy."
"That we are. I think I was just in shock about hearing my name and baby in the same sentence, and I mean you seen y/n's reaction." Sam shakes his head smiling and then he sighs, "We just wanted to say sorry for lying about the lost footage, we actually did have it. Nothing got deleted.. we just wanted to wait until y/n and the baby were at a good spot in the pregnancy to announce it and we thought that holding onto this video was the perfect way to do so."
You look at Sam confused and he smirks, "I'm going to tweet that the footage mysteriously disappeared or something like that, I don't know."
"We'll figure it out, let's just head to the hotel and go from there." Colby sets the camera down and starts driving.
The whole way back to the hotel, Sam stayed next to you in the back, hand on your stomach as you guys talked about everything.
"If you guys have a boy, can his name be Colby?" Colby glances back at you and you laugh, "Your name is definitely going to be in it somewhere, Brock." You smile and he looked shocked that you said that.
"Wait.. really?" He asks and you and Sam both nod.
"Of course it's going to be, Colby. You've been there for me through everything." Sam reaches up and pats his shoulder.
Colby clears his throat, "I'm going to need you guys to get out of the car so you don't see me crying."
You laugh, "Aww, Colby." You reach up and squeeze his shoulder, "Don't act so surprised."
Colby laughs slightly, "I just.. I kinda knew that was going to happen but just the confirmation of it, you know?"
"I know, but I couldn't not do that." Sam chuckles, "You know that."
Colby nods and pulls into the hotel parking lot, "yeah yeah." He puts the car in park and gets out, knocking on the window for you guys to get out.
Sam gets out, walking around to open your door before Colby engulfs him in a hug. You take your phone out, recording them having their little celebration, smiling as they do a little dancey dance.
Colby points to you, "You're not getting off that easy, come here." You walk over and he hugs you, "Congratulations."
You smile, "Thanks uncle Colby."
He laughs, "You guys are going to be the best parents ever."
Sam walks up and it's now a group hug, "You know, I don't think there's any better way for us to find out, like we found out doing what we do."
"It was just perfect. Shocking, yes. But perfect for us." You rest your head on Sam's shoulder, "I can't wait to go to bed though. I'm so tired."
"Alright let's take this party inside." Sam rubs your back as you walk into the hotel, making your way up to your room.
"I'm going to post a snap, making it seem like tonight wasn't a good night." Colby says as he plops down on his bed.
You interlock your hand with Sam, pulling him to the bathroom, "I'm going to go shower."
"Mhm." Colby laughs and you hear him start talking to his phone, "So.. guys.. bad news.."
As soon as you shut the bathroom door, Sam is on you, "I knew there was something off about you." His lips move to yours and you moan against him.
"I've needed you all night." You whimper as you take off your sweatshirt and shirt in one swoop, "You have no idea."
"Think i needed you just as bad." He works to undo your jeans, and you push them down as he works on getting undressed himself.
He walks over turning the water on before coming back to you, "You just got so much more prettier." He bites his lip as his hand slides slowly over your stomach, "So much sexier."
You lay your hand on his, "We're going to have a baby."
He smiles and nods, "we sure are." He wraps an arm around you, "You're going to look so good with a baby bump. Shit, I can picture it already."
He pulls you into the shower with him, kissing you as the water washes over both of you.
"Sam.." you whimper quietly, "Please."
He lens down to slide his hands to the back of your thighs, "You know I'm going to be extra protective of you now."
"It'll be much hotter than it was before." You run your hand over his wet hair, moving it from his forehead.
He smirks, closing his eyes to your touch, "hmm."
He holds you up, your back pressed against the wall as he slides his hand between your bodies, gently rubbing your clit.
You gasp, closing your eyes as you rest your head against the wall, "Sam." You moan out quietly, "Please."
You feel his two fingers slide down, dipping inside of you as he curls them, watching your face twist as finally receiving some type of pleasure after waiting all day and night.
"Shit, daddy." You whimper and look at him, a smirk toying with your lips. His eyebrows raise and his head tilts slightly, "mhm. That's right."
You smile and he replaces his fingers with his cock, causing your eyes to roll back as you moan. Your back lifts from the wall and your nails dig into his shoulders, "F-fuck."
"You like that? Hmm. Is this what you wanted all day?" Sam's voice is quiet and he groans as he starts to thrust, "Fuck."
"You tighten your legs around him, moaning as he builds up to a pace that's absolutely perfect, "M'so close, daddy."
He leans in, kissing up your chest and neck, "Cum for me, mama."
His words, the tone of voice, and especially your hormones out of all sorts of wack right now sends you into overdrive.
You clench around him, filling the bathroom with moans as you let go around him, your orgasm ransacking your body until every inch or your body was feeling fuzzy.
"F-fuck." You whimper as he fucks you through your high, "Yes, yes yes."
Sam plants one hand on the wall, crashing his lips onto yours as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.
You lay your hands on his cheeks, gently pressing kisses to his cheeks as he slowly pulls out with a low groan.
He sets you down, helping you regain your balance and he pulls you in, "I'm so excited."
You nod, "Me too, Sam." You sigh, "I'm honestly glad it worked out this way and the fact that we have it on recording is even better."
He nods, "No one would believe us if we didn't."
You laugh slightly, "Yeah, no you're right. Speaking of, I kinda wanna go back and watch it." He smiles and nods, "You finish in here, I'll go get everything set up."
He gives you a kiss, cupping your cheeks as he leans back, "I love you."
You smile, "We love you."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Here's a little bonus :) enjoy!
Five months later.
"Are you going to upload it today?" Colby asks walking into the living room, "I mean, you can't hide it much longer, right?"
You shrug and look down at Sam's hand on your bump, "I mean, not really. He's growing like a weed." You laugh slightly and Colby's eyes go wide, "I'm.. sorry.. did you just.." he looks between you and Sam, "He?"
You laugh and cover your mouth, "Oh shit. I'm sorry. I thought you told him already." You look over at Sam, "No I wanted to tell him in person, but it worked out." He looks over at Colby, "you wanna know the name?"
Colby moves to sit down in front of you guys and nods, "Um yes please."
Sam moves the laptop off of his lap and sits up, "I think we're going to go with, Cole John Golbach."
You can see the tears welling up in Colby's eyes, you've never seen that man cry before.
"Colby?" You lean forward and tap his shoulder, "Are you okay?"
He nods, "Mhm." You can tell he's trying not to cry and if he speaks, the flood gates will open, "Yeah I just.." he stands up, covering his face and you hear him sniffle, "Thank you." He turns and you and Sam both get up and hug him.
You start crying because that's what pregnancy does to you.
"We love you, Colby." Sam pats Colby's chest and sniffles, "Alright. So are we ready to post this?"
You all move to the couch, on either side of Sam and watch as he works on posting the final video.
You bite your lip, watching as the video uploads and Sam pulls out his phone, going on twitter
@/samgolbach: new video coming here in a few minutes and let me tell you.. It's a must watch.
You tap him and point when it's uploaded and thousands of people flood the likes and comments.
@/fanuser: Wait... I thought this footage was lost or got deleted? What is going on!?
@/fanuser1: STOP IT why did they wait until now to post this? There's something happening..
"I can't wait until they get to the end." Colby chuckles, "They're going to lose their minds."
Sam nods, laying his hand on your bump, "I just wanted to make sure they were good before any type of announcement."
You told your close friends, but that's about it. You made sure that they promised to keep it under lock and key until the time came.
"Oh, and Colby." You lean forward to look at him and he looks up at you, "Yeah?"
"No one but us three knows the name of this baby." You smile and he starts to get choked up again, "O-okay." He laughs and shakes his head, "Damn it, dude."
You pick up your phone, sighing as you see a bunch of notifications, "They know." You laugh slightly, "I guess it's time now, I can post one of our bump pics, letting them know how far along we are."
You scroll through your pictures, finding the perfect one.
INSTAGRAM
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@/yourusername: Guess the cats out of the bag, we will be welcoming a beautiful baby boy to the Golbach family in about four months or so. Shoutout to Nancy at the mansion for the news. @/samgolbach
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Hope you liked this!
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darkbluekies · 8 months
Text
Secrets
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Mafia!yandere x reader x hidden brother
Summary: Silas has a brother you've never heard of, who seems to be just what you need, so you decide to escape with him, only to find out even more secrets.
Warnings: mafia, crime, scamming, murder, blood, manipulation, mentions of selling a human, smuggling, nsfw mentions (let me know if I missed one)
Word count: 5.5k
Silas has brought you to his family's summer house on the Greek island of Rhodos for you to be alone, away from everyone. Only you and him for a week. Weirdly enough, it brings you some kind of relief. His men and his work has worn you out.
"Stay here, I have to go get some food for us", Silas says and picks up his wallet. "I'll be back in thirty minutes, baby, so try not to die in the meantime."
"I won't", you promise.
Silas smiles and kisses your lips. "Good. I love you, little thing. I'll be back soon."
He locks the door behind him. You breathe out and finally relax your body. Being all alone with Silas has been excruciating. If he learned to keep his hands to himself, you wouldn't feel as tired as you do now. Every night, he wants to feel you underneath him.
Just a few minutes later, you hear the lock turn. Silas must have forgotten something. But the man who walks in … isn't Silas. You could swear that it was in your first glance. The man looks extremely like Silas with thick, black hair, dark eyes and broad build. This man, however, has a bigger nose and lips.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" he gasps as he walks in. "I didn't know Silas was here."
You take a step backwards. When someone knows Silas, it is almost always bad.
"Who are you?" you ask suspiciously. 
"I'm Ares, Silas’s younger brother", he says and holds out his hand in front of him in a pleading way. "Please don't be afraid. I'm not like my brother." He looks around. "Where is he, anyways?"
"He'll be here soon …"
"What's your name? You're Silas’s partner, right?"
You nod hesitantly. There's a bad feeling in your stomach. 
"I've heard about you", Ares smiles sweetly and rolls his eyes. "Or not about about you. Silas never tells anything to the family, but I've heard that he has a partner. There's a rumor."
Ares sits down by the kitchen table. You follow him closely with your eyes.
"How is he treating you?" Ares asks carefully and points at your neck. "He isn't hurting you, is he?"
Your hand shoots up to your neck, remembering the (probably) hundreds of love bites Silas has left on you.
"N-No!" you stutter embarrassedly. "This isn't-!"
"Oh, I see. Sorry for assuming. I just know that my brother isn't a very soft person so I just- … that was dumb of me, I apologize."
"It's okay …"
Ares smiles coyly. You find yourself smiling slightly at the awkward misunderstanding. 
"What was your name?" he asks.
"Y/N", you say.
"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I didn't mean to intrude like this. I was under the impression that the house would be empty."
"It's fine-"
Your sentence is cut short by the door opening.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Ares?" Silas growls and holds out his hand to you. "Y/N, come here."
You walk over to your boyfriend who is quick to scoot you behind him.
"Mom and dad said that the summer house was free", Ares says and crosses his muscular arms — something that seems to run in the family — with a cocky smile. "You didn't tell them that you were here."
"Why should I? They disowned me, they don't need to know about my whereabouts. Now get out. I don't want you anywhere near my partner."
Ares stands up. He walks over to Sials, glancing at you over his shoulder.
"A tip, big bro", he says amusedly with raised eyebrows, "if you break Y/N when you're having sex, you'll be living in involuntary abstinence for weeks. Don't be so rough."
Silas flinches forward upon hearing your name, as if he's about to attack him, but seems to force himself to remain still. Ares leaves, closing the door behind him. Silas turns to you instantly, cupping your cheeks.
"What did he do to you?" he asks quickly, worry glowing in his eyes. "Tell me everything."
"He didn't do anything", you answer. "I'm okay. You never told me that you have a brother."
"Y/N, he's a horrible man, I don't want you talking to him. I hid him for a reason."
Silas's usual jealousy is talking again, you notice.
"Pack your bag, we're leaving tonight."
"Silas, I don't want to go back. I hate it there."
"You're safe at home. Apparently, you're not here."
"Silas, who cares if your brother knows that we're here?"
"No one should know where we are, do you get that? Only my closest men should know about my whereabouts. I don't even trust people in my organization. Go pack your bags now."
You sigh and give in. You notice how quiet Silas is. He throws everything around and glares. With a harsh grip on your hand, he pulls you with him to his car and speeds all the way to the airport. You're afraid of opening your mouth. He's going to explode at any moment … but you can't stand this much longer. The second his private jet lifts from the runway, you decide to try to ease the air.
"Silas, please", you say quietly with tears in your eyes. "You're scaring me."
That seems to snap Silas out of his dark cloud. His eyes dark over to you and soften, as if he's realized that you're there as well.
"Oh, I'm sorry, baby", he apologizes and unbuckles his seatbelt. "Come here."
You unbuckle your own and walk over. He pulls you down into his lap and hides his face into your abused neck. You can feel his heavy sigh.
"Why are you crying?" he asks quietly into your neck.
"I don't like it when you're mad .. every time you're mad, you kill someone", you whisper in horror. "I don't want you to be mad. I don't understand. He's just your brother-"
"I hate that piece of shit. Don't call him my brother."
You gulp.
"I will not let him take you", Silas mumbles and tightens his embrace on you. "He's always wanted everything I have. Even when we were kids. He threw tantrums when I got presents on my birthday because he wanted his own. If my dense, thick brained parents hadn't given in ye probably wouldn't he a piece of shit now."
Younger siblings are often like that, you're not surprised. Always wanting what the older one has — to be like them.
Silas lifts his head from your neck and presses his lips to yours.
"You're mine", he tells you and gives you a gaze you can't seem to read. "Say it, say that you're mine."
"I'm yours, Silas", you say hesitantly. "Please calm down, I'm uncomfortable."
He sighs heavily and intertwines your fingers.
"I'm sorry, baby", he apologizes. "Ares just pisses me off like no one else."
"You'll not have to meet him again", you remind him. "You ran into him by accident."
"Yeah, I guess. If I had known that he would stumble in like a fucking pig I would never have left you alone. I don't even want to imagine what he could have done …"
"Silas, I'm okay, right? Nothing happened. He was friendly, you have nothing to worry about?"
He scoffs. "Nothing to worry about? Yeah, right."
"Can we please drop this now? I don't want to sit with you if you're going to be like this."
You're about to stand up, but he pulls you down again.
"Alright, alright, I'll not talk more about it. Just stay."
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A month passes. Silas weird behavior has finally toned down and to make up for his extremely overprotective manner, he's agreed to take you out on a car drive. Silas needs to meet up with a "colleague" to trade something he hasn't told you. You don't question that anymore — frankly, knowing will only bring you nausea and headaches.
Silas’s car has many buttons and screens inside, both in the front and behind the seats, LEDs that light up in different colors and heaters under your seat. The car is more comfortable than your bedroom. 
He parks the car in a gas station, making it look like he's supposed to fuel his car, when in reality, he walks off to meet with his contact. Before he leaves, he handcuffs your hand to the steering wheel and locks all doors. Knowing that you can unlock them from inside paranois him. You sigh and look around you for something to keep your eyes on, finding a familiar face in the slot beside you. Ares has parked his red sports car beside the gas pump. He smiles when noticing you and gets out of his car. He looks around in confusion. You point towards the gas station  with your free hand. Ares nods and scurries over to you. You unlock your door.
"Y/N, hi", he smiles. "What a coincidence. I’m so glad to see you. Ever after I was kicked out by Silas, I’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay?"
"What do you think?" you sigh and lift your cuffed hand.
"That's easy to pick." Ares picks up something resembling a needle from his back pocket and inserts it in the lock. Just a minute later, the lock clicks open and you remove the cuff from your wrist. “Y/N, you should come with me. I can save you from him.”
Those words ring in your head. I can save you from him. You can finally get away? Ares tugs on your arm and you realize that you have to decide now, before Silas returns. If you decide to leave with Ares, changes are you’ll have to live on the run for the rest of your life. You’re certain that SIlas won’t let you go that simple. And once he does catch you again, you’ll have to regain his trust — that took such a long time to acquire. But you don’t want to stay. You don’t want to have his suffocating presence around you, don’t want to be locked in his bedroom all day every day, don’t want to be present in that kind of lifestyle. You just want to go back to normal … although that will never happen. You’ve stepped into this world (although involuntarily) and now you can never get out — not fully at least. 
Ares helps you into the front seat of his sports car. You find it humorous that two brothers who seem to be so completely different like the same things.
"Let's go", Ares says and hits the gas.
"Thank you", you whisper, in shock over what just occurred. "I don't know how I'll repay you."
"Don't worry about it", Ares smiles and glances at you. "I don't think it's safe to get you home to your family. That's the first place Silas will look. Let's go to my house."
"Silas doesn’t know where that is, does he?"
"No. Just relax, Y/N, you're safe now."
You nod and decide to sink down into the car seat. You wonder how Silas is feeling right now.
Ares stops the car in front of a white house before helping you out.
"Is this your house?" you ask.
"No, I'm just using this as a decoy", Ares grins and rolls his eyes. "Come, I'll show you to the guest room. You must be tired."
You nod. If you are. Ares unlocks the door and you step into an empty hall.
"You have to excuse the empty space", Ares says, closing the door behind him. "I just moved in, I haven't had the time to get all the essentials — but I do have beds prepared."
"That's okay", you sat softly.
"The rooms are upstairs. I decided to give you an upstairs bedroom so that in case my big brother ever manages to find this house, he won't reach you. I will be able to stop him before he manages to get upstairs."
You start to walk up the stairs. 
"But he has many men …", you say quietly. 
"Trust me, Y/N, after growing up with him, you learn how to win feuds", Ares chuckles. "He's easy to read, you know? He acts like a child. He hates to share stuff, keeps unnecessary grudges and plays too hard with his toys." Ares raises his eyebrows teasingly and grins at you. "I see that your hickeys are gone."
Your hand touches your neck sheepishly. "Oh, yeah …"
"If you're ever up for some soft sex that doesn't end up looking like a murder scene …" He holds his hand up to his head like a telephone, "call me."
You chuckle and shake your head. Ares smiles and opens a door to your left, showing you a simple bedroom.
"I hope that you'll be able to recover from my brother's treatment here", he says behind you. "I'll leave you be for now. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to tell me, alright?"
"Okay", you nod. "Thank you, Ares. Genuinely. For everything."
"Of course."
He closes the door and you sink down on the mattress, breathing out. For a moment, your entire body goes numb. You really did escape Silas … with the help of Silas's brother. You have to be dreaming. How much more absurd can it get?
You find yourself enjoying Ares's company. You often sit on his couch and watch TV while he plays with his phone. It seems to occupy his every hour. You want to ask about it, but after spending so mu g time with Silas and his demeanor of 'don't ever ask what I'm doing' you hesitate. 
"You've been staring at me five times now", Ares says without looking up from his precious screen. "If you're going to ask something, do it."
"What are you doing?" you ask.
"I'm doing some business. I work mostly online."
"With what?"
Ares looks up from his phone and you freeze. You shouldn't have put your nose into his business. 
"I manage a few companies, just a couple small ones", Ares smiles. "You know — buy, sell, trade. All of that stuff. Why? Are you interested?"
"I just … I don't know. I was just wondering why you were always on your phone."
"Yes, shit, sorry. I'm so used to working all the time. Were you feeling ignored?"
"N-No, not at all. I was just curious."
"That's good. Stay curious. Just not too curious, alright? It was curiosity after all that got you into this situation from the start, wasn't it? You shouldn't have watched what was on that USB."
You gulp, remembering how you and Silas met. You had found a USB in your bag that one of his men had dropped one day. He had tracked the USB ones it had been used … and found you.
"How did you know that?" you ask.
"Do you want to know a secret?" Ares smiles boyishly. "Some of my friends work for Silas. Just under cover, to spy on him a little. They told me. That's how I knew you actually existed. You're just a rumor, but my friends could ascertain that you were real."
The mention of 'friends' brings your thoughts back on your own friends and family.
"Ares, when do you think I can go home?" you ask.
"Not for a while", Ares replies.
"But I've been here for two weeks. I'm bored. I want to meet my family."
"I know, little dove, but that isn't the ideal for now. Silas could take you. We need to be patient."
Little dove? You think that it sounds eerily similar to Silas's favorite pet name for you — little thing.
"Don't call me that", you say quietly, suddenly feeling guilt. "It … reminds me of him …"
"Reminds you of him? I saved you, remember? I'm better than him."
"Yes, yes, I know … but …"
"Come here."
You walk over to him and he takes your hand, kissing it gently.
"You're just overthinking because you're scared", Ares says. "I get that. My brother put you through horrific things. But you don't have to be afraid anymore. You're with me now. Trust me. Trust that I'm doing what's best for you."
You nod, but can't help but feel like his grip on your hand is a bit too tight. You look into his black eyes, searching for some kind of excuse for it — he's just trying to be comforting, it's just how strong his hands are … it runs in the family.
When going to bed that night, you're left with a heavy feeling in your stomach. Ares has been nothing but kind to you, so why do you suddenly feel uneasy? Or is it really sudden? Didn't you feel uncomfortable in his presence the very second you met him for the first time? Before he flashed you that boyish smile of his? Or do you just miss Silas? That can't be it … can it?
You turn in bed. 
Something doesn't feel right. Ares is supposed to be different from Silas, why does everything he does remind you of him? Just being brothers can't be the entire reason. Ares's car is the same type, just in a different color, his flirty behavior reminds you of Silas, just a tad bit different, his strong grip in your hand felt exactly like him and the way he called you "little dove" makes your stomach turn. 
What was it that Ares worked with? Did he ever tell you what he bought and sold and traded? He never told you what companies he owns.
You sit up and look around in the dark room. Ares haven't put in any effort to go out and buy furniture for his new house. The house itself doesn't make sense. Everything about Ares seems so similar to Silas, how come the house is the only thing that separates them? Silas has his black, modern, renovated villah and Ares has … an old, white house? While owning a sports car? While managing so many companies?
Suddenly, you get it all. Why haven't you noticed it before? Have you been trying to pretend that everything is fine so badly that you've missed all the red flags? You scurry out of bed and change into your clothes with shaking hands. 
You sneak out into the corridor, hearing Ares's voice from downstairs.
"No, they're asleep", he says. "Yeah, I'm thinking about doing that … they seem to piece things together and so does my idiotic brother. I can't keep them here. I'm thinking Spain. Silas will never find us there. Last I heard he got banned from entering the country. Or that might have been England. I'm not sure. Bastard's probably banned from half of Europe by now." Ares chuckles. "We'll do just fine in Spain. I know some people there that would pay a lot of money for Y/N. All because they're Silas’s partner, isn't that funny? Everyone has something against Silas and to piss him off, you have to use his little partner."
You freeze. Is Ares planning to smuggle you out of the country to sell you to one of Silas’s enemies? You have to get out of here. Oh, how you wish you were at Silas’s house right now, that you had never accepted Ares’s help. You really do miss your forced boyfriend.
You sneak down the stairs, feeling lightheaded when the wood under your feet creaks. 
"I have to go, mate, I think I have a wandering toddler", Ares says.
You hear him get up from his armchair and suddenly he appears in your vision, right in front of you down the stairs. He smiles sweetly, but you tense up.
"What's wrong?" he asks. "Can't sleep?"
"Are you taking me to Spain?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
He seems to be taken aback for a second but quickly gathers himself. "Yes, I thought that it would be good for you to change scenery to recover. You'll love Spain."
"I don't want to leave the country, Ares. I can recover here. I promise."
Ares eyes narrow. He must have heard the shaking in your voice that you tried so desperately to hide.
"Y/N, do you believe that I want you harm?" he asks calmly, leaning his hand on the wall.
Your heart starts to beat.
"No, of course not", you lie.
Ares smiles and walks up the steps to you. You fight the urge to flinch, suddenly feeling like you're back in Silas’s house — although you were more comfortable in Silas’s company. You knew him better.
"Let's think about it", Ares smiles and rubs your back. "It's late. Spain doesn't disappear overnight, we have time to come to a decision. Come."
He leads you back to your room and gives you your pajamas before leaving you alone. You change and sit down on your bed, holding a shaking hand over your chest.
Suddenly, you hear the door lock. You rush over, feeling the handle — just to assure you that you didn't hear things. It is indeed locked.
"Fuck …", you whisper. "Oh my God, Silas, help me."
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You decide to play along. 
You sit with Ares in the living room every evening, watching the TV. And then, the day comes when you’re supposed to go to Spain. The night before, you know that you have to do something. You don’t want to leave the country. Not with him. 
You put on your clothes and sneak downstairs, finding Ares on his phone as usual. He doesn’t see you sneak by the living room door, over to the front door. You try it once. Locked. This old house needs to be unlocked with a key from the inside — a key you don’t have. You look around quickly, glancing every minute towards the living room. You try the window. Nothing. The only window responding to your tries are the kitchen window above the sink. As quiet as you possibly can, you get up on the counter and pull the window open. WHen climbing out, you accidentally knock a glass over. The sound of glass crashing against metal in the sink makes your heart drop. You don’t wait for any responses. Without a second doubt, you jump down onto the grass outside and run. Past his red sports car, past the gates, down the street. 
From your month at Ares’s house, you’ve learned that the people in the surrounding houses are nothing more than drug addicted humans. No reason to try to get help from them. You run until an old telephone box appears in the distance. If there’s one phone number you’ve had to memorize, it’s Silas. You’re surprised he hasn’t tattooed it on you to make sure you don’t forget. 
You know that you should call the police. You really should … but you have a feeling that they won’t be much help. If there’s one that will help you at all cost … it’s Silas. He will do what it takes. You can’t waste this opportunity on something and someone that might not work.  
You rip the glass door open and grab the phone. 
“A quarter?” you pant in panic, looking around. “I don’t have a quarter!”
To your big surprise, someone must have dropped one while fumbling with their wallet before you. You pick up the shiny coin and press it into the slot before hurrying to press in the phone number.
“Please pick up, please”, you plead, panting. Your entire body is jittering, you can’t stand still. “Please, Silas!”
Finally, the long signals break. Silence.
"Hello?" you pant.
"Y/N?" Silas gasps.
A weird relief flows through you when hearing his voice. You hadn't realized that you had … missed it. 
 "I was wondering who had gotten my private number!" he continues quickly. "Where are you? Are you safe?"
"Ares wants to take me out of the country — to Spain! He wants to leave tomorrow. I'm so sorry I didn't believe you! You were right about him-"
"Where are you?"
You give him the description of the place while he forces his men to track the call. You crouch down while sobbing. Your entire body trembles.
"Don't worry, baby, I will get you", Silas comforts you. "You'll be safe soon, okay? Just hold out for me. I'll be-"
"Deposit another quarter to keep the call going."
"Fuck!" you shout and slam the phone back in its place. 
Everything seems so quiet again. You open the phone box to get some fresh air when you see him. He's standing with his back leaned against the glass cubicle. You freeze.
"You're not a good actor, Y/N", Ares says with a small smile. "You heard everything I said in my phone call that night. You couldn't fool me."
"You were going to smuggle me out of the country and sell me!" you say through gritted teeth. "Silas was right about you. You are jealous of him, want everything he has. But you'll never have that. You're just a copycat."
Ares stands up and takes a step closer. He towers over you like a predator. You force yourself to stand your ground while glaring at him. 
"A copycat?" he asks, raising his eyebrows testingly. You can hear how he's trying his best to stay calm. "How can I copy someone who isn't deserving of anything? He doesn't deserve even half of the things he's gotten. Not his empire, not his wealth, not his reputation, not you."
You gulp, but train your glare on him.
"And you do, or what?" you question.
"I've actually decided to keep you", Ares says with raised eyebrows. "I'm not going to sell you. How could I? Not after you've been so good to me, actually giving me attention for once. Do you know how sick I am of hearing 'Silas this', 'Silas that'? Despite disowning him, my parents still talk about him constantly! It's always been that way. No one cares what Ares does." He points at you. "You listened to me. You had a good time spending time with me — don't try to lie about it — and I'm not letting you go. I'm not going to be alone again. Silas doesn't take care of you in the way I do. In one month, I've fixed what he's destroyed. Unlike him, I give you freedom. I give you what you want. Silas didn't give you a TV, didn't even let you out of your fucking bedroom! He never answered your questions, I do."
"You tricked me. That day you stumbled into the house the only time we were there wasn't a coincidence, was it? Or the day you met us at the gas station? Your friends had told you, hadn't they? Because if they hadn't, how would you just happen to have a lock pick just when I needed one? You pretended that you were nice to lure me away from Silas, but you're just as bad as him."
"So why do you try to go back to Silas, hm? If he's as bad as me? If you can love him, you can love me too, if you are so persistent that we're the exact same."
"Because at least Silas doesn't pretend to be someone else and would never even think about selling me. But since you're so money hungry, Ares, what do you work with? Your companies. They're not legal, are they? None of the money you have is clean, like you pass them as."
"Silas money isn't clean either. If you're going to call me a scum, you better take a good, hard look at your boyfriend. He has people killed, tortured and manhandled. I don't do that. The worst thing I do is put people into debt, I do not kill."
"People die because of that — and that is your fault. You're both bad, don't pretend to be someone honest." Your eyebrows twitch. "For your information, I would never go to Spain with you, even if I didn't know what a total psychopath you are."
Ares smiles a predatory smile that makes your veins turn to ice. "You're going to Spain with me if I have to drag you by your hair."
You give him one last glare before you run. He sets off after you, grabbing you by your arm. He folds it and reaches for the other while kicking the back of your knees. You fall together and give him just enough time to lock you in place. 
He drags you back to his house where his car is already being loaded with bags. A big box is standing on the grass with its lid open.
"If you hadn't been such a pain, Y/N, I wouldn't have to do this", he pants and pushes you into the box, closing it from the outside. "You could have sat beside me in first class, but now you go with the luggage."
You hit, kick and punch. Stars shoot from the pain.
"Let me out!" you shout. "Ares!"
Silence. You can hear the engine of a car starting and disappearing into the distance. And then comes back.
"Y/N?" a familiar voice shouts.
Silas.
You start to kick and punch the wooden box again, shouting back. Soon, the lid opens and you are met by Silas’s worried face. You have never been so happy to see him before. 
"Oh, Y/N …", he breathes out and lifts you up, hugging you tightly. "My baby."
You cry against his body. He squeezes you in his arms, making sure that you really are real. He examines your poor knuckles, giving them a kiss.
"Are you okay?" he asks worriedly. 
"Ares was going to take me to Spain", you sob.
"Yes, you said something about that on the phone. We'll talk more about it later, okay? Now we need to get you home."
You look around in horror. "Where is Ares?"
"Not here, don't worry. If there's one thing about him that he can't change, it's that he's the biggest coward you'll ever meet. I saw him in his car driving past, shouting that you were here. He'd rather blow off his entire operation than get caught."
You breathe out. Silas hangs his coat over your shoulder before placing his arm around you.
"Let's get you home", he says and kisses your temple. "It's about time. Ive missed you so fucking much. I haven’t been able to sleep without you, I’ve been so scared that Ares had killed you. I’ll cut off his hands for touching you. I’ll pluck out his eyes for looking at you, I promise."
“I’ve missed you too”, you admit and wipe your tears. “He tricked me. I’m sorry.”
Silas kisses your lips and caresses your cheek without saying anything. You can see tears in his eyes, for the very first time.
A paper on the ground catches your attention, but before you have time to look at it, Silas asks about what happened and you have to put it in your pocket.
"He has infiltrated your organization", you say as Silas helps you into the front seat. "He has spies in your group who report to him." You tell him the entire story. "He wanted to smuggle me to Spain to sell em to one of your enemies …"
"Bastard", Silas mutters and hits tye instrumental plate with his palm. "He knows I'm banned from there."
"Why?" 
Silas is about to tell you that you shouldn't worry about it, but then sighs. "A murder or two. But that doesn't matter. I'm just happy that you managed to escape him in time to call me. If you hadn't … I probably wouldn't have gotten you back.”
You fiddle with your fingers guiltily in your lap. "I'm sorry for not believing you …"
"Don't be. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you along. I shouldn’t have thought that he’d give up. Ares is a master manipulator. That's why his businesses are going so well. He knows how to manipulate his way into getting what he wants. He played on your insecurities and fears. I should have protected you better.”
“What will happen to him?”
“I’ll let that cowardly cockroach slip away this time. But the next time I see him, I will kill him.” Silas takes your hand with his free one. “From here on, I’ll make sure it never happens again. I’ll get better security and I’ll make sure we can do more stuff … to make sure that you aren’t locked in the bedroom all the time.”
“That sounds nice …” you say quietly. 
You sit in silence for a while. Suddenly, you remember the paper in your pocket. You pick it out and fold it open. For a few seconds, you’re sure that you can’t breathe. 
'I will come back for you and when I do, it’s going to be bloody'
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hamsterclaw · 1 month
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Yoongi’s a murder detective fighting burnout when he’s assigned the case that you and your former partner fucked up.
Paring: Yoongi x f! Reader
Genre: Detectives!Yoongi and reader
Rating: 18+
Word count: 6.6k
Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of murder, bloodshed and assault, sex, depression and burnout, mentions of guns
The flashing blue lights in Yoongi’s window are followed by the wail of sirens cutting through the early evening bustle.
Yoongi looks out the window. He’s three floors up from street level, there’s raindrops tracking along the dirty glass, the faint smell of mildew that accompanies any rainfall in this filthy city.
Under the table, his good leather shoes, the ones he saves for weddings and funerals, have rubbed a hole in the skin over his achilles. Yoongi had worn them for his disciplinary hearing today, the part of him that still wants to be a cop temporarily winning over the part of him that doesn’t.
He wonders if this is what burnout feels like.
His superior, Kim Namjoon, had called him into his office after the hearing to tell him he was on probation, to clean up his act because he wouldn’t be so lucky as to get off next time.
The truth is, Yoongi had known while he was pressing the suspect’s face into gravel with his booted foot that it would come back to bite him on the ass.
He’d done it anyway.
Yoongi’s never been kind to scum who exploit children, but his partner, Jung Hoseok, had seen something in Yoongi’s face that day that had made him report Yoongi.
Yoongi doesn’t blame him. Hoseok has been his partner on and off for five years and he’s as sterling as they come. His moral compass is as strong as it was the day they graduated from the academy, despite all the fucked up shit they’ve seen.
Unlike Yoongi.
Yoongi was never black and white to begin with and now he’s so far into the grey he scares himself sometimes. It’s never been his goal to be the kind of cop who metes out his own justice.
Only madness lies that way.
Anyway now Hoseok’s been reassigned temporarily to narcotics, supposedly a break from homicide, and Yoongi’s partnerless.
Probably not for long, there’s always some hungry rookie wanting the credibility of working homicide.
Yoongi sighs, closes the file he’d been skimming. It’s well past seven, there aren’t any open cases that need his immediate attention and he figures he might as well go home to his apartment and his cat, Kenzo.
The pavement’s slippery under the smooth soles of his good shoes, Yoongi pulls his coat tighter against the early autumn chill as he walks the five blocks to his apartment.
The smell of fried wontons fills his nostrils as he passes a conduit street in the back end of Little China, Yoongi’s tempted to stop and pick up dinner.
He’s tempted every time and succumbed yesterday so he soldiers on, not without a pang of regret. He regrets food choices because he’d rather that, than think about his actual regrets.
The bang of a gunshot when he’d been two minutes too late to what then became a crime scene.
Fucking some girl with a cute face because he hadn’t been man enough to treat Mara the way she deserved.
Choosing to stay in homicide even after it had become clear to him that he had plumbed the depths of human depravity. Scarring his psyche repeatedly because it’s easier than making the active choice to request a transfer.
Yoongi unlocks his door, toes his shoes off, hangs up his coat.
There’s a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, a flash of grey fur as Kenzo skitters across the entryway, close but not touching him.
It’s the kind of greeting Yoongi can get behind.
He pours out a serving of dry food into Kenzo’s dish, heads to the fridge to reheat yesterday’s wontons.
Eats standing at the tiny kitchen island, cracks open a beer to wash it all down.
He catches sight of his face, pinched in the scowl it seems to fall into more often than not these days.
Jesus, is he getting old?
Yoongi avoids looking at his reflection again as he showers. Changes into the same t-shirt he’s been wearing for weeks, contemplates watching porn just to take the edge off, but decides he can’t be bothered.
He falls into sleep, deep and dreamless, wakes up with an almighty crick in his neck just before dawn from the way he’d been huddled in a tight ball under the covers.
He knows he’s not right, but he’s been not right for so long Yoongi wouldn’t even know where to start putting himself together again.
***
Redemption comes in odd packages, Yoongi thinks, as he looks up a case he worked on six months ago, a shady businessman on the fringe of organised crime who’d got high as a kite and beat a sex worker to death.
He’d been killed on the way to serving out his sentence in the cushy prison in Busan his fancy lawyer had managed to negotiate, crushed in the back of the transport vehicle when it had been t-boned by a lorry.
Apparently a freak accident, Yoongi doubts it but he’s also not going to look too closely, it’s out of his jurisdiction and he’s too jaded to mourn the loss of another brutal asshole. They’d had to identify the sex worker by her dental records and DNA, her face had been unrecognisable.
There’s a knock on the frosted glass panel on his office door, Yoongi looks up as Kim Namjoon walks in, followed by the latest hungry rookie angling for a stint in homicide.
‘Min Yoongi, this is Y/N L/N,’ Namjoon says. ‘She’s a new transfer in from the Seoul branch.’
Yoongi doesn’t have to fake his disinterest as he nods politely at you.
‘What’s the case?’ he asks.
Namjoon looks pointedly at the crime scene photo blown up on Yoongi’s screen.
Yoongi waits.
He can feel your gaze on him, but he’ll get to that later.
The anticipation of a new case never gets old, he’s been in homicide since he graduated off the beat ten years ago and he no longer thinks it’s sick of him to get excited about another murder.
It’s the thrill of the hunt that he lives for, the translation of nebulous facts and witness statements into a puzzle that he can solve.
Yoongi’s damn good at his job. It almost makes the sacrifices in the rest of his so-called life worth it.
Namjoon hands Yoongi a case file, crisp, sharp edges waiting to razor his fingertips open. Flat.
Inside, the standard cover page, then a note that makes Yoongi sit up straight out of his slouch.
He looks at Namjoon to find Namjoon’s already looking at him.
‘The reaper of Seoul?’
Yoongi realises as he says the words out loud how it sounds.
The capture and subsequent conviction of the serial killer who’d terrorised the citizens of Seoul for three years had made headlines nationwide.
Last year.
‘Yeah,’ Namjoon says, the tension in his jaw evident now that Yoongi’s looking at him properly.
Namjoon glances at you. ‘It would seem he never left.’
You shift your weight and your eyes meet Yoongi’s.
‘My partner and I broke the case,’ you say. There’s a brittle smoothness to your voice that Yoongi recognises as a paper thin facade over the hauntedness underneath. ‘Turns out we didn’t.’
***
The note in the case file is a single sheet of letter paper, lined in blue.
The handwriting is precise, neat between the lines.
Oh dear.
Better luck this time?
Best regards from your neighbourhood Reaper.
Yoongi looks at you, sitting across the room at the desk Hoseok’s temporarily vacated.
You’re staring at your screen, face backlit in blue, expression unreadable. You’re in black, nondescript knitwear, your hair pushed back from your face, eyes narrowed.
He clears his throat. ‘You worked the case with your partner.’
It’s a statement you answer to like a question.
‘It was the first case I picked up when I joined homicide,’ you say, turning to Yoongi. ‘It started with -‘
‘Kim Seulgi,’ Yoongi says.
You nod, almost grimacing at the name of the Seoul Reaper’s first high profile victim.
‘Her family wanted answers.’
Kim Seulgi had been born of Seoul’s elite, an architect with her grandfather’s firm who had picked up a number of accolades for her work on the National Opera House.
She’d been engaged to an equally accomplished classical pianist, Jeong Minho, and had been the only offspring of her wealthy parents.
She’d disappeared three days before her wedding, only to turn up on her wedding day, floating in the Hangang, dressed in the clothes she’d disappeared in.
You say, ‘She was an ambitious first target.’
‘Was she the first?’ Yoongi asks.
The flicker in your eyes tells him this isn’t the first time you’ve considered this.
‘My partner Kiho.’ There’s strain in your voice. You start again. ‘My partner, Kiho, and I thought he’d killed before.’
You shrug. ‘The captain felt we were wasting time looking back into his early years.’
Yoongi says, neutral, ‘Budgets are limited, your case must have passed the thresholds for plausible deniability.’
‘It seemed to fit,’ you agree.
Your eyes meet again. ‘Not all of it, though.’
Yoongi knows, intimately, what it’s like to not be certain. Sometimes all you have is your instinct. It’s one thing to build a case no reasonable person would doubt, but you’re also betting on your gut. You’re betting on being a good enough detective to know that the pieces fit, without forcing them to fit.
You’re betting on being honest with yourself, and Yoongi knows more than anyone how tempting the lies can be.
Now you’re the one watching him, taking the measure of him.
His email pings.
‘That’s the link to the full case file,’ you say.
You get up, carry a stack of notebooks to his desk.
‘Our notebooks,’ you say.
Yoongi looks at the stack.
Every cop’s got their own collection of notebooks, raw data and impressions that don’t always make it into official reports.
The equivalent of dirty underwear when you’re not expecting company versus lingerie when you’re down to fuck.
This close, he can smell your shampoo, bright and faintly floral.
You blink at him.
‘I need to sort something with human resources,’ you say. ‘I’ll see you later.’
In actual fact it’s 36 hours later when he next sees you, at 4am, at a crime scene.
***
The rain falling is more than a drizzle, enough that the tent around the victim is the first priority.
There’s an imprint of violence in the air, Yoongi knows you feel it too by the way your lips tighten as you duck under the yellow tape to join him.
You nod at him in greeting, then there’s silence as you enter the tent.
The victim’s on her front, face turned to the right, hand tucked under her cheek.
She hasn’t been dead long enough for livedo to set in, she would almost look asleep if it weren’t for the purple of her lips, the greyness to her complexion.
The bath of blood she’s lying in.
Yoongi can just see the edge of the gaping wound on her neck.
You wait until forensics turns her body over.
The top three buttons of her silk blouse are undone, her chest slick with blood.
Yoongi’s reading the crime scene like he’s reading you, and he knows what you’re going to say before you say it.
‘It’s him,’ you breathe. The devastation in your eyes makes it difficult for him to look at you. ‘Fuck, it’s him.’
***
You’re shivering visibly despite the hot coffee Yoongi’s poured you, despite the fact that he’s turned the heating in his ancient Hyundai up as far as it’ll go.
There are droplets of water in your hair, sparkling incongruously in the gloom.
You’re waiting till first light to knock on neighbourhood doors, the victim was found in a quiet cul-de-sac.
Two minutes from her own front door.
Not much chills Yoongi these days but that fact does make him pause.
The audacity of it.
He says, ‘I have a blanket in the trunk.’
You’re protesting but Yoongi gets back out in the rain anyway, grabs the blanket and gets back in.
Hands it to you, takes your cup as you drape the blanket around yourself.
‘It gets colder here than Seoul,’ Yoongi offers, handing you your coffee back.
‘We fucked it up,’ you say, and Yoongi knows that’s what you’ve been thinking since you saw the body.
He’s just been waiting for you to be ready to say it.
‘So make it right,’ he says, simple.
‘An innocent man’s in prison because Kiho and I fucked up,’ you say.
Yoongi doesn’t want to minimise it but he doubts the man you put away was completely innocent.
‘I read your notebooks,’ he says. ‘Who’s Jeon Bogyeol?’
There had been twelve murders before the arrest. All women in their late twenties to mid thirties, all living alone.
They’d all lived in the same part of Seoul, but apart from that there was nothing to link them that he could find.
You look at him warily. ‘He was a night watchman at the apartments of seven of the women.’
Yoongi waits.
‘We cross-referenced staff at all the addresses, and his name kept coming up. Like Jang Daeseong.’
You flinch at the name of the man convicted of the murders, as though it didn’t fall from your own lips.
You keep talking, though, your voice never faltering. ‘We never found any links between Jeon Bogyeol and the other five women.’
‘Did he have a history?’ Yoongi asks. He’s looking out the window at the first rays of sunrise, muted orange through the rain. His shoulder aches, an old injury he doesn’t think about except when he’s tired, and cold.
‘There was a neighbour,’ you say. You’re chewing on your bottom lip, a tell Yoongi’s noticed for the first time tonight.
‘She called the police once saying she’d seen Bogyeol taking a woman into his apartment against her will.’
You’re frowning. ‘The beat cops who responded to the call out said there was no sign of anyone else in his apartment. The neighbour moved away.’
‘Moved away?’ Yoongi asks, and you glance at him, understanding the sharpness in his tone.
‘I was going to look into it when the Chief shut us down,’ you say. It’s stated simply, like a fact, no sign of defensiveness.
Yoongi offers you more coffee from his flask.
‘Where’s Bogyeol now?’
‘When the new letter came in I looked him up,’ you say. The steam rising from your cup obscures part of your expression for a moment, but Yoongi can hear the tremor in your voice.
‘He’s less than fifty miles east of here.’
Dawn’s breaking, the rain’s finally starting to peter out, but Yoongi’s chilled anyway.
***
The morning sun is high in the sky by the time Yoongi and you finish interviewing the neighbours and the new victim’s friends and family.
Yoongi’s phone rings. It’s Namjoon.
‘Can you talk?’ Namjoon asks.
Yoongi mouths ‘Namjoon’ in response to your inquiring expression, puts some distance between you and him.
‘Yeah,’ he answers.
‘The post-mortem results are back, and the preliminary tox screen is negative. The ME’s put the cause of death as exsanguination.’
Yoongi processes this. ‘It’s the same MO as the previous Seoul reaper victims,’ he says.
Namjoon sighs. ‘Has anything new come out of your interviews?’
‘No,’ Yoongi says. The victim had been well-liked, none of the neighbours had seen or heard anything, and on the surface of it there were no conflicts he could see. Her boyfriend of two years had been away on a work trip, his location confirmed around the window of the crime.
Yoongi’s looking at you as you wait against the car, and when your name comes out of Namjoon’s mouth he’s already got an inkling of what Namjoon wants to know.
‘I reviewed the case,’ Namjoon says. ‘There are no obvious flaws or errors in their investigation.’
Yoongi grunts. ‘There was a lead that they didn’t follow up on.’
He fills Namjoon in.
‘I’ll follow it up.’
Namjoon says, thoughtfully, ‘I wonder where her partner’s working now.’
Yoongi’s surprised Namjoon doesn’t already know, to be honest, he’s always two steps ahead of Yoongi.
He flicks his gaze to you again. You’re still waiting against the car, and there’s a loneliness to your posture, a fatigued downturn to your mouth that makes him say, ‘Hey Joon, I’ll call you back, ok?’
He ends the call, unlocks the car.
‘We should get back and compare notes,’ Yoongi says. His voice has dropped the way it does when he’s tired, and shit, he is tired. He hasn’t slept well for a while.
‘Let me drive,’ you offer. You take his keys, and your fingers brush his for an instant.
The contact, brief though it is, makes Yoongi’s skin tingle.
He wonders if you notice his reaction, but you’re already sliding in, adjusting the seat, starting up the car.
***
Yoongi wakes when you’re parking the car, sits up, a little embarrassed.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, looking to gauge your reaction.
‘Don’t be,’ you reply. ‘I would have done the same if you’d driven.’
There’s a hint of mischief in the curve of your half-smile.
‘You mumble in your sleep.’
Yoongi rubs a hand over his face. ‘What’d I say?’
‘I couldn’t make out any words,’ you tell him, but there’s a twinkle in your eye that makes him wonder if that’s really true.
Mara is the only person who’s shared his bed in recent years, and she’d never mentioned anything.
You swipe your ID to get into the station, hit the lifts.
In the dire grey lighting you look almost as tired as he does.
‘Coffee?’ Yoongi offers, when you pass the vending machine on the way to the office.
‘Yeah,’ you say. You’re on your phone, frowning over a text.
Yoongi passes you a cup.
‘Problem?’ he asks.
‘Kiho,’ you say. You look at him. ‘My old partner. He wants to meet up.’
‘It’d be useful to talk through the case with him,’ Yoongi agrees.
Your expression is difficult to read. ‘He’s in a retreat a couple hours drive from here. He took time off after we closed the case.’
Yoongi gulps his coffee. ‘There isn’t anything else we can do here anyway, we’re waiting on leads.’
He reaches out his hand for the car keys. ‘I can drive.’
***
The retreat Kiho is staying in is set amongst the foothills of a mountain, rolling grounds all around, a view of the cliffs overlooking the sea.
It seems to Yoongi like a place only the very rich or the very damaged would live.
Unless you get better pay packets in Seoul he’s apprehensive about meeting Kiho.
You sign in at the front desk, the receptionist greets you warmly, like she’s met you a few times before.
You lead Yoongi through a huge lounge, through open patio doors and into a green. Yoongi’s looking around at the residents, scanning the area the way he does automatically whenever he’s in an unfamiliar place.
You’re waving a hand, and then you’re embracing a tall man tightly. Neither of you say anything but Yoongi can see the way your shoulders slump, like the tension’s draining out of you.
It’s only when the tall man looks up at Yoongi inquiringly that Yoongi notices the long scar running along his neck. Tracing the path of his jugular, vertical rather than horizontal.
Kiho extends a hand.
‘So you’re going to get our guy,’ he says.
Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that.
‘We’re going to get him,’ he says, finally.
Kiho turns to you. ‘You haven’t told him,’ he says to you.
You’re looking at Yoongi.
‘We can tell him now.’
***
‘I started getting notes after Jang Daeseong was convicted,’ you say. You’re sitting in a gazebo with Yoongi and Kiho, mugs of coffee in front of you.
Yoongi raises an eyebrow.
You flick your eyes to his, then look away, unlock your phone.
Yoongi takes your phone, scrolls through a gallery of pictures.
Lined paper, handwriting he’s seen before.
Yoongi reads through the content, then returns your phone to you.
‘The originals are with forensics,’ you tell him. ‘The paper and ink are generic, impossible to trace. There’s no trace of DNA, not so much as a partial print.’
‘The notes stopped coming last month,’ you say. ‘Right around the time I moved.’
Kiho’s scratching his neck absently, Yoongi catches how your gaze drops to his scar.
The length of it’s longer than a stab wound, he thinks the surgeons might have had to extend the scar to repair the vessels beneath.
You turn to Yoongi.
‘We have to stop him,’ you say. ‘Use me to lure him out.’
‘He nearly killed me,’ Kiho says. His expression is sober, his tone flat.
He stops there, but Yoongi can hear his next words, loud and clear.
What’s he going to do to you?
‘We can’t let him keep going like this,’ you say, very gently.
Kiho meets Yoongi’s gaze.
Yoongi doesn’t falter.
‘He has to be stopped,’ he agrees.
***
The drive back to the police station goes quicker - there’s something about seeing your old partner that’s given you a bump of energy.
Yoongi can practically feel the adrenaline fizzing in your blood, coming off you in waves.
He’s worried about the crash when the adrenaline ebbs.
He sure as fuck hopes you can cope with the lows better than he can.
He’d put in a call before you left the retreat, Namjoon’s fast tracking a last known address on the neighbour of Jeon Bogyeol who’d moved away.
You’re typing an address into the satnav yourself, face drawn, eyes serious.
Yoongi doesn’t have to ask whose address it is.
‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’ he asks.
His voice is as neutral as he can make it but he already knows that you’ve made your decision.
It’s written all over you, in the way your shoulders are squared, in the tilt of your chin, in the way your hands are tensed into fists in your lap.
‘I need to see this through, Yoongi,’ you say.
Yoongi takes a moment.
‘What happened to Kiho?’ he asks.
‘He didn’t see who it was,’ you answer. Your eyes are fixed in front of you, jaw tensed.
‘He was heading home in between shifts and he got jumped in the car park under his apartment. If he hadn’t been found by the car park attendant —‘ you voice trails off, and you shiver.
‘He was lucky the car park attendant called for help right away. That his next door neighbour, fresh off a shift in the trauma department, arrived home when she did and was there to take over. That he lives five minutes on blue lights away from the best trauma centre in Seoul.’
You look at Yoongi. ‘Kiho’s damned lucky to be alive.’
‘It’s a different injury from the reaper’s usual MO,’ Yoongi says slowly.
You nod. ‘He was toying with us.’
‘You said you received notes from the Reaper,’ Yoongi says. He’s watching you carefully in the rearview. ‘What did they say?’
Your lips press together in a line, but your voice is steady when you answer.
‘He said he’d been watching me, and that he was coming for me. That I’d be his final kill.’
***
The address you’ve put in for Jeon Bogyeol is a house in a run down suburban neighbourhood, the type of place Yoongi grew up.
The houses are haphazardly arranged, like a careless scatter on a Monopoly board, connected by a warren of roads too narrow for more than one car to pass.
Yoongi can see you tensing up the closer you get to your destination, and after he parks and switches off the engine, he places his hand on your arm.
Your eyes are expressive, more so than your voice.
‘We haven’t got grounds yet for an arrest warrant,’ you say, flat.
‘We’re working the case,’ Yoongi replies. ‘And if it’s right, we’ll work it until it’s airtight.’
Your response is to stare at him a moment, then to push open the car door.
Yoongi notices that you’ve unzipped your jacket, making your holstered gun more visible.
His own gun presses against his hip, the weight of it reminding him that although he’s only drawn it a handful of times, each time has been with intent.
He sure as fuck hopes neither of you will have reason to draw your gun today.
***
The address is little more than a shack, a rickety door that looks like it’ll give under a strong kick, a boarded up window that’s visibly cracked.
Yoongi knocks, identifies you both.
Follows procedure because he’s determined to get it all right this time.
Get the monster locked up where he belongs.
You don’t have grounds to break down the door, at least not until you go round to the back and see the pink tricycle upended in the dirt, streamers splayed tendrils of pink and white.
There isn’t much that sends Yoongi into the grey as much as the suggestion that a child might be involved.
He doesn’t really recall looking at you to confirm, just knows that one minute he’s outside in the chill and the next he’s inside the shack, gun drawn, the metallic tang of blood in the back of his throat.
There’s nowhere to hide in the empty shack, Jeon Bogyeol is gone.
You do a cursory search but both of you know you aren’t going to find your answers here.
Then Yoongi must blank out, because the next thing he hears is your voice, firm, saying his name.
He’s panting, covered in sweat, back against a wall, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his jacket to keep him upright.
He blinks, and you snap into focus. There’s ringing in his ears.
Your mouth opens, and the ringing stops. He hears your voice.
‘Let’s go, Yoongi.’
He lets you lead him out, folds himself into the passenger seat of your car, notes distantly how you put your hand on the top of the doorframe like you’re worried he’s going to bang his head.
You start the engine and then you drive, and Yoongi’s grateful that you don’t say anything at all, don’t ask for an explanation of why a fucking tricycle sent him into a tailspin.
Yoongi looks down in his lap because he’s not ready to see if you’re looking at him differently now that you’ve seen him wig out.
You put the radio on after a few minutes, stop at a drive thru after an hour.
It’s only when you hand him a coffee, silently, that he’s moved to speak.
He clears his throat, and you’re the one who speaks, still looking straight ahead, out the windscreen.
‘You don’t have to tell me. I mean, I’ll listen if you do, but you don’t have to.’
Yoongi chews on that a moment.
‘Three years ago I worked what we thought was a murder in Busan. It turned out to be an abduction.’
Yoongi laughs. There’s no humour in it.
‘We found her. She was still warm. If we’d been ten minutes quicker at figuring it out, if her fucking dad had told us about the business deal he had that had gone sour sooner, if I’d even just tried harder…’
His voice trails off.
He risks a glance at you.
You’re still not looking at him.
‘I can’t speak to whether you could have prevented it, Yoongi. All I know is that none of us come to work to do a bad job.’
Your hand lands on his forearm briefly.
‘Some days are just bad days at the office.’
It’s not the first time Yoongi’s heard it, but it’s the first time it’s been said to him with no judgement that he can hear.
***
When you get back to the precinct, Namjoon’s waiting.
He hands Yoongi another case file.
‘I got Jimin to follow up on those leads we talked about,’ Namjoon says, no preamble.
‘We visited Jeon Bogyeol’s last known address,’ you say. ‘There’s no one there now, but it hasn’t been long since he moved out.’
Namjoon says, ‘Keep me informed.’
He nods to the case file. ‘There’s some interesting information in there.’
As Namjoon walks off, you turn to Yoongi.
‘I’m going down to visit someone I know in forensics, see if they can check the house.’
Yoongi heads for your joint office.
There’s a cleaning cart parked just outside the door, which opens just as Yoongi reaches for the doorknob.
The cleaner apologises and bows politely.
Yoongi steps aside to let her pass.
‘You forgot this,’ he says, spotting the dusting cloth left on your desk.
He hands it to her and places the file on his desk.
Outside, it’s raining again.
***
Yoongi wakes with a jolt.
You’re perched on the edge of his desk.
‘You should go home, get some sleep.’
‘In the middle of an active murder investigation?’ Yoongi mumbles.
‘I’m one of the potential targets, remember?’ you say, grimacing. ‘He might come to us.’
At Yoongi’s expression, you say, ‘We’ve been doing nothing but following up leads since the last murder. The last investigation took months, almost a year. What are you going to do, not sleep until he’s caught?’
‘I don’t sleep much anyway,’ Yoongi says, but he knows you’re right.
‘I know you don’t,’ you reply. There’s an empathy in your tone that reminds him you’re a homicide detective too.
You exchange a look, and then you both speak at the same time.
‘I should go —‘
‘Do you like wontons?’ Yoongi blurts out.
You raise an eyebrow. ‘Is this like inviting me in for ramen?’
‘What?’ Yoongi splutters. ‘No, not like that. There’s this place I go. They have—-‘
‘Wontons, I get it,’ you say. You get up. ‘Yeah. Let’s go.’
***
It’s been a while since Yoongi shared a meal with someone else, the last person was Hoseok, who could go straight from a crime scene to a steakhouse without turning a hair.
You’re chasing a wonton around your plate, fatigue lining the corners of your mouth.
Yoongi asks, ‘Where do you live?’
‘The other side of town,’ you tell him. ‘Near the financial district.’
‘Fancy,’ Yoongi muses.
‘More than I can afford,’ you say darkly. ‘If this case goes on for a while I’m going to need to move.’
You look up at him. ‘Where do you live?’
‘Close to here,’ Yoongi says.
‘Yeah?’
You put your chopsticks down. ‘I should —-‘
This time, Yoongi interrupts.
‘Do you want to come round for ramen?’
Your eyes meet, and there’s a beat of silence. Then a pulse of connection that sends heat through Yoongi’s veins.
Your knee brushes his under the table.
‘Yeah,’ you answer, deliberate. ‘Fuck, yeah.’
***
Yoongi’s always hated the preamble to a hookup, in his line of work uncertainty is a thing to be avoided.
You work the case until you get an explanation no reasonable person would doubt.
He finds himself waiting, though, now that you’re standing in his apartment.
You’re looking around, and he wonders if his existence seems as lonely on the outside as it feels on the inside.
He’s wondering if you’ve changed your mind, if you really did think he meant ramen, when you reach out and grasp the front of his shirt.
Slip the tips of your fingers just under, hold the placket as you use your other hand to unbutton. Start at his throat, work your way down, slowly.
His skin prickles under the warmth of your fingers.
You lean forward and press a kiss to the base of his neck.
Yoongi reaches up, slides a hand around the nape of your neck, and you tilt your face to his.
Close up, you’re soft.
Yoongi traces your bottom lip with his thumb, and your lips part.
You don’t say anything, though, and that’s ok, because Yoongi thinks you’re as talked out as he is.
It’s been a hell of a fucking day.
You’re kissing his neck again, instead of his mouth, and that’s ok, because this isn’t love, it’s comfort.
A human connection in a day filled with monsters.
Yoongi sighs as your hands slip over his bare chest, round to his back.
He helps you lift your top over your head, admires your breasts, nipples pressing against the fabric of your bra.
He cups the weight of them in his hands, and you moan.
Yoongi’s cock is filling out, and you’re undoing his belt like you want to see for yourself.
You drop to your knees in front of him, press your mouth onto the length of him over his boxer briefs, sigh with pleasure.
‘Not too much,’ Yoongi warns, ‘not if you want me to fuck you.’
You look up at him, hair mussed, a smile curving your lips.
You tug his boxer briefs down, and Yoongi curls a hand around himself so as not to hit you in the face.
‘Just let me —‘
You open your mouth to take him in, and Yoongi groans at the feel of your warmth.
When did he last —
His crown nudges the back of your throat, and you swallow, and he loses his train of thought.
He grabs your shoulder, tugs you up, kisses the smear of his own stickiness at the corner of your mouth.
The light slanting in through the window is hues of gold and orange, filling in the hollows of your face, outlining the curves of your body.
Yoongi has to stop looking at you because he doesn’t want to cry at how much he’s missed being close to someone like this.
‘Where do you want me?’ he asks, voice taut.
‘Anywhere,’ you say. ‘Just turn these fucking lights out.’
***
In the dark, Yoongi’s most enraptured by the warmth of you.
Your skin is smooth, so soft under his hands as he wraps his fingers around the curve of your hips.
His cock glides in and out of the heat between your legs, and your moans are beautiful but what really gets him are the hitches in your breathing as he moves.
He turns you over, onto your back, and you pull him to you. Your mouth opens on his shoulder in what would be a kiss if you weren’t biting down. Your tongue flicks over his bruised skin, an apology.
You haven’t spoken to each other in words in a while but Yoongi doesn’t think either of you need words right now.
At least he doesn’t.
You’re tightening around his cock now, your cries quickening until you gasp his name in a tone that makes him grunt and his hips jerk, taking him deep as he can go.
Even in his pleasure he makes sure not to crush you as he collapses next to you.
Then you’re up, walking over to the window, pulling up the sash, lighting a cigarette without asking if he’s ok with it.
Yoongi admires the outline of your profile against the glass.
‘I needed that,’ you say, taking a drag, hunching a little to blow smoke out of his window.
‘Me too,’ Yoongi says, honestly.
He ties off the condom, gets up to toss it in the trash on top of yesterday’s takeout.
Pours you a glass of water on his way back to bed.
He half expects you to be dressed, and you are, but in his clothes, not your own, an old t-shirt he’d tossed on the chair by the bed yesterday morning before he left for work.
He can’t see your face clearly in the dark. It makes it easy to find his voice.
‘You should stay,’ he says. ‘We can get coffee in the morning.’
You’re quiet. ‘I want to.’
Yoongi climbs into bed, and after a moment you slide in next to him.
Your bodies aren’t touching at all, but somehow having you there with him is enough.
Yoongi means to check on you, but he’s asleep so quickly he doesn’t get a chance to.
***
There’s a basketball hoop set into the wall in the back end of the station, a concrete square with a chain-link fence.
The building opposite is a block of offices, as is the building next to it.
Yoongi makes the shot, and you grab the ball on its first bounce.
You say, ‘Forensics got nothing from Jeon Bogyeol’s shack. He bleached the shit out of the place before he left.’
Yoongi grunts, watches you point and shoot.
He’d read through the file Namjoon gave him on the neighbour - it’s incomplete but she was last seen alive twelve weeks ago in a coastal town.
There’s something niggling at the back of his brain, he’d suggested shooting hoops in the hopes that the activity might shake the thought loose so his conscious mind can make the connection.
His phone vibrates in his pocket.
Namjoon.
‘I’m going up to see Namjoon,’ he says. ‘You coming?’
‘I’ll stay here for a bit,’ you say. ‘I’ll be up in a sec.’
Yoongi shrugs, lets himself back in.
Takes the stairs up to Namjoon’s office on the third floor.
There’s a cleaning cart parked next to the staff kitchen as he rounds the corner.
Yoongi’s about to knock on Namjoon’s door when his scattered thoughts crystallise.
The case file Namjoon had given him had a grainy photo of Jeon Bogyeol’s neighbour, the one who’d reported him and then disappeared.
He’s seen her face before, and recently.
Coming out of your office.
‘Fuck,’ he swears.
He grabs his phone out of his pocket, dials your number.
Your phone rings, and rings.
Yoongi takes off, down the stairs, back the way he came.
By the time he bursts out of the back door of the station, gun drawn, his heart’s thumping triple speed, but his hand is steady as he aims it at the man with a knife standing over you.
His finger goes from trigger guard to trigger.
‘Fucking drop it,’ Yoongi warns.
He doesn’t, so Yoongi shoots.
***
Jeon Bogyeol’s neighbour who had reported him was called Seo Hyerin.
She was in her early forties, an ex-teacher who he’d coerced into helping him by turning up at her new place even after she’d moved to get away from him.
She’d been too scared to disobey him, but in forcing her to help him, Jeon Bogyeol had given her access to enough information to clinch the case against him.
Once she’d found out he’d been shot and was likely to go straight from hospital to prison, she’d shared all that information with Yoongi and you.
The pieces fell into place so easily there was no need to make any of it fit.
And now Yoongi’s sitting in the kitchen of your apartment, watching as you pack things up.
He’d been right. Your place was fancy.
You were being transferred back to Seoul to finish up, see things through with the case.
He realises you’re looking at him.
‘My new place is a couple hours drive from here,’ you say.
‘Yeah?’ Yoongi says, like he hadn’t already looked it up.
He’d also looked up timed automated cat food dispensers, just because it was one thing to have a neighbour drop in and feed Kenzo if he’s stuck with a case occasionally, but it’s another thing if he’s regularly going to be driving down to see you.
If he’s regularly going to be spending the night away.
It’s uncharacteristic, for him, but he’s hopeful.
‘I slept pretty well that time,’ you say, looking down into your box.
You look up at him, and the curve of your lips makes Yoongi think to himself that he’d like to kiss you, sometime.
‘In your apartment,’ you clarify, like he wouldn’t already know.
‘I make good ramen,’ Yoongi says. ‘I can make it again for you, you know.’
You laugh, and the sound makes Yoongi feel warm.
He realises that he’s smiling.
Fuck, it’s been a while.
528 notes · View notes
wack-ashimself · 9 months
Text
Some of you care more about going to church or your temple on Sunday than stopping child sex trafficking, and it shows. Because you going to your church or Temple will absolutely not in any form change anything. Not a damn thing. Hell, I bet at some of those churches, it's still going on... so you're enabling them...
Ps- double down the same feeling for people and sports. You care more about athletes than children being raped. If you think I'm wrong, when was the last time you brought to somebody's attention that those who went to epsteins Island are free versus you talked about your fucking favorite team? Yeah, you SHOULD feel like shit.
3 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
Text
you made me this way
Tumblr media
words: 1.5k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, murder!!, guns!!, blood!!, drug dealer!rafe and reader, reader kills a cop!!, romanticizing murder and violence!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, male receiving oral
“baby, give me the gun.” rafes eyes are wide, but they're not trained on you, even as he reaches his hand out for the weapon.
you quickly turn it and place the handle against his palm, your own hand shaking when you lower it. rafe unloads the chamber before tucking the gun into his belt, his eyes still on the body now bleeding out on the deck of the boat.
“baby. what the fuck did you just do?” rafe finally drags his eyes away from the growing pool of red.
you're surprised by rafes anger, his harsh tone.
“you-you said he was in our way!” you justify your actions. 
rafe knew it was a mistake to let you into the drug game on the island, to convert you from sweet innocent girlfriend to a dealer, to the partner in his growing empire.
“so you fucking shoot him?” rafe shouts, stepping closer to you.
“of course! i did this for us rafe, for you.” you emphasize. you'd do anything for rafe, and you were just showing him by taking out the competition, and a dirty cop in the meanwhile. no one would suspect that an officer was the one rivaling with the young dealer on the island, so the best thing you could do for business was to dispose of him before he was able to get enough dirt to turn to his colleagues and become the sole distributor in the outer banks.
“we gotta get rid of his body-fuck-who else knew he was here?” rafes mind is reeling, running through all the possibilities of ways you could get caught as he looks around the isolated area, his boat anchored in the sand.
“nobody! i was really safe about it and we are close to the swamp, we can dump his body there and then no one will ever know.” you explain, having learned from rafes stories and warnings that the alligators will take care of anything left in the swamp.
“okay.” rafe takes a deep breath. “okay. we’ll figure this out. lets just get rid of this body then go from there.” “you’re hard.” you point out, rafe looking down at his swim trunks, tented in the front. “you just murdered someone for me baby, of course i’m hard.”
“fuck me.” you cross over to rafe, pressing your body into his. “fuck me then we can get rid of the body.”
“you’re fucking crazy.” rafe says, but a smile graces his lips, his hand grabbing your ass.
“if i’m crazy, it’s because you’ve made me that way.” you kiss rafe, mouth quickly being devoured by him.
rafe moves you backwards towards the sofa, the sunlight hitting the plastic waterproof material as he pushes your hips down to sit, with rafe still hovering over top you.
“suck me, baby.” rafe tugs his swim shorts down, his hard cock instantly being swallowed as you lean forward, needing to taste his thickness in your mouth.
“fuck, so good.” rafe moans, thrusting his hips forward, fucking into your mouth as you relax your throat for him to slide down. rafes hands fist in your hair as he moans, eyes flickering over to the dead body, the man that you killed for rafe, for your joint business.
“love your mouth, baby. love everything about you.” rafes soft words are contrast to how hard hes pushing his cock inside of your mouth, not even caring when you start to gag around him, struggling to breathe through your nose.
you eventually have to tap rafes thigh to take a deep breath, but your hand takes the place while you breath, continuing to pleasure rafe.
“wanna fuck you now, come on.” rafe grabs your hips, turning you over so you’re kneeling on the couch, hands gripping the back, looking over the side of the boat towards the sea.
rafe tugs your dress up, the thin cotton material revealing your swimsuit. rafe groans at the tiny bows on either side of your hip, instantly tugging at them so your bikini bottoms fall to the floor.
“do anything for you rafey.” you moan as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, feeling how wet you are. “anything.” you shudder as he pushes against your entrance, his cock easily entering you with how wet you are.
“i know, baby.” rafe groans, pushing into you slowly but with ease. “you killed for me.” “would do it again.” you clench your cunt around rafes cock, encouraging him to move faster.
rafe keeps the slow pace despite you whining, his hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you still. “gonna fuck you nice and slow at first. make you feel real good.”
rafe moves one hand around to your stomach, gently caressing your soft skin before skirting lower, his fingers circling around your clit before pressing over it, his fingertips soft on your sensitive pussy as he rubs.
“so good.” you moan, eyes squeezing shut instead of looking at the horizon.
“i know, baby, i know.” rafe groans, glancing over at the dead cop again, the circle of blood expanding even more. rafe knows the clean up is going to be a bitch, but it’s worth it to get rid of the competition.
“harder, please.” you whine.
“not yet.” rafe smirks, loving that you’re already begging for him. “gotta be good and still for me, okay?”
“can’t.” you whine, trying to move a little, but rafes hands are too tight, keeping you from doing anything besides squirming a bit.
“just a bit longer, mmkay? you just killed a man for me, you need to calm down and let me take care of you.” rafe flicks over your clit before continuing to rub over it.
you take a deep breath, trying to calm down and just focus on rafes cock smoothly rubbing against your walls, lightly stretching you open.
“ready?” rafe hums, and before you can register his question, his thrusts suddenly deepening and quickening, pounding into you while pulling you back onto his cock with his one hand.
“oh fuck!” you shout out, glad that there is no one in the desolate area to hear you screaming, as well as the gunshot that went off.
“good girl, good girl.” rafe moans, bucking up into you as your knees stick to the plastic couch material.
“i’m-i can’t.” you moan, letting your head fall as your body pushes forward with every thrust from rafe. “can’t.” you moan again. “feels so good.”
“you gonna cum for me?” rafe questions, his fingers still rapidly rubbing over your clit. you feel his cock swelling inside of you and know he’s not too far away himself.
“yeah.” you nod rapidly. “yeah, so close.” you squeal, feeling lucky that you found someone as perfect as rafe, someone who can make you feel so good.
“gonna cum inside you, pretty girl.” rafe warns shortly before you feel him release inside of you, his cum flooding into your pussy. his orgasm triggers you own, high suddenly ripping through your body as your cunt pulses around rafes cock, milking him even more than he thought possible.
“oh, fuck.” your body quivers when rafe gently pulls out, cum leaking from your cunt and dripping onto the sofa.
“so good, baby.” rafe says, helping you turn over onto your bottom as you slump against the couch, adrenaline from the shooting and ecstacy from the sex quickly draining from your body.
“come here.” you reach up for rafe with the last of your strength, who quickly sinks to his knees and cuddles into your neck, his lips pressing over your neck.
“we gotta take care of this body, baby.” rafe mumbles, tucking himself back into his swimshorts.
“i know, i know.” you sigh, rubbing your fingers over his scalp before allowing him to stand up. you take a moment to breathe while he goes to the captains chair, navigating the boat further into the swamp. you finally get the energy to grab your bikini bottoms at put them back on, the mess of cum now on the seat, but its nothing compared to the mess of blood you know you’ll have to spend hours scrubbing off with bleach.
“here should be good.” rafe says, standing up and grabbing the cop by his arms, dragging him over the edge of the boat with a loud splash. you peak over the edge at the body, both watching as it takes only minutes for an alligator to surface, bumping the cops arm before the gators teeth chomp down.
you gasp, more surprised that you feel nothing seeing the ferocious animal tear into a man that you just murdered.
“come on, baby.” rafe grabs a bucket, knowing it’ll be best to clean as much as you can of the boat before taking it back to the dock.
“wait, rafe.” you grab his arm, looking into his bright blue eyes. “i-i liked it.”
“what?” rafe questions, his eyebrows scrunching together.
“i liked killing him. i would do it again. for you, for us.”
the corner of rafes lip quirks up. “you better stop talking like that before i have to fuck you again.”
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coryosbaby · 10 months
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Dark! Rafe Cameron Headcannons ʚ♡ɞ
(Nsfw & sfw featuring Bimbo! Reader)
warning !! for like, a lot </3 stalker behavior, sex, murder, a little bit of him hurting reader— stuff like that
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Dark Rafe who sees you with the Pogues for the first time and is instantly in love with you— you’re all he can think about after that
Dark! Rafe who first meets you at a party— your makeup done all pretty, hair in braids, with a little skirt lifting whenever you walk that exposes the fat of your ass. You’re perfect to him, and it isn’t hard for Rafe to have those pretty lips wrapped around his cock in due time
Dark! Rafe who asks to be your boyfriend 3 days later— that’s a little weird. He’s only known you for a few days. But so what? And so what if he knew your whole name, your birthday, and where you work? He probably heard it around the island. But it’s nothing.
And besides, he’s so cute!
Dark Rafe who gives you a gold necklace with his name on it for your one year anniversary— chokes you with it as he’s fucking you
Dark! Rafe who keeps a shrine of you; pieces of your jewelry, a lip gloss you left in his room, your underwear — some coated with your previous arousal, some freshly washed, some stained with the red of your menstrual cycle. He might even have a lock or two of your hair from one of the haircuts he took you to get
Dark! Rafe who’s so obsessed that he gets your name tattooed right on the space along his pinky finger— you hold it a lot with your perfectly manicured hands
Dark! Rafe who makes you get a tattoo of his name on your lower back — he coats it with his cum the minute it’s done healing, of course
Dark! Rafe who overstims you until you’re begging him to stop— wetness gushing down your thighs, tummy drawn up tight as your clit throbs in pain from his harsh rubbing as he begs you, “please, baby, just one more time. Cum for me one more time.”
Dark! Rafe who gets jealous of another guy— ties him up and makes him watch as he bends you over the nearest surface. Gags him with your panties because he knows that’s the only taste he’ll ever get of you. He makes sure you don’t know that he put a bullet in his skull the day after
Dark! Rafe who’s absolutely fucking filthy and OBSESSED with cum— fills up your mouth, makes you keep it there and choke on it before bringing his tongue down and licking it up as it begins to pool down your chin. Fills up your cunt as many times as he can count , plays with it as it spills out of your hole and feeds it to you with his fingers
Dark! Rafe who likes being called daddy— it slips out of your lips and he just goes fucking insane, cock bruising your cervix as he growls, “say that shit again, bitch… fuck yeah. Daddy’s about to cum inside this sweet little pussy.”
Dark! Rafe who smokes cigarettes after your sessions— he took it up after the stress of his first job. He blows the smoke in your mouth sometimes, and he likes to put them out on your skin. With your permission, of course
Dark! Rafe who takes pictures of you all the time— he takes pictures of your new outfits you show him, takes pictures of you on your dates. Maybe even when you’re buying a new set that he bought just for you. And sometimes.. maybe when you’re fast asleep. Whether it’s when you’re sleeping over, or when Rafe is “too busy” to come over to your house. He just likes the thrill of sneaking into your room and seeing your pretty body spread out on your pink bedsheets without him knowing. It’s no big deal
Dark! Rafe who notices you’ve been quieter
Dark Rafe! who asks you what’s wrong— you don’t tell him. You don’t want him to do something he’ll regret.
Dark! Rafe who eventually pulls the answer out of you, and when he figures out that your reasoning for being so sad is because someone— one of his ‘friends’— is being rude to you, he promises he won’t do anything drastic. (he’s lying, of course)
Dark! Rafe who bashes their skull in with a golf club until their brains are scattered all over concrete— there were no witnesses, and you very much have no clue until this day
Dark! Rafe who makes you wear his rings all the time— they’re oversized on you, but he doesn’t care
Dark! Rafe worships your pussy at any given chance— his tongue is always inside your cunt and against your clit. He’s obsessed with your smell and taste
Dark! Rafe who proposes to you with the most gigantic diamond ring you’ve ever seen in your life !
Dark! Rafe who buys you an entire mansion— hires maids so you don’t have to clean, let’s you do whatever you want whenever you want. He’s the one who does all the hard work. You’re his little princess, and you should be spoiled and cared for
Dark! Rafe who brags about you all the time to his colleagues— his perfect little wife, who he absolutely adores and gives his entire being to.
Dark! Rafe who overhears his male employees saying perverted things about you— he fucks you over his desk. Everyone can see into his office. No one says anything else about you after that
Dark! Rafe who fucks you into your shared bed, cock pulsing as he empties his seed into your bare cunt and announces that he’s going to give you a baby. And who are you to say no? Your birth control is gone within a week of him mentioning it. Your little family is perfect
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A/N: u guys I’m so in love with this man.
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nexysworld · 4 months
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Summary: Leon is sent on a mission to carry out a hit for the government. He hated these missions the most, but worst of all you weren't supposed to be there. You weren't supposed to see him. Pairing: ID!Assassin Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Smut, canon typical gore, graphic depictions of murder, comfort sex, mild dubcon, unprotected sex, fem!receiving oral sex, soft sex, angsty sex, hurt/comfort/hurt, dark content, descriptions of wound dressing. WC: 5.2k
A/N: This was a birthday fic for the wonderful @elfven-blog. <3 Title from the lyrics to the song Sextape by Deftones. Edit: I also have a bot based on this fic now: Character AI | Spicychat
Read on A03 || Ask Box || Masterlists
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Cool air bristled the hairs on the back of his neck, limbs tingling with the typical anticipation of what came next. Hits weren’t his favorite type of mission, not by a longshot, he wanted to save people, not kill them. But with experience came a certain professional numbness and a way to compartmentalize. It didn’t help that the locale for this affair was in the dead center of a suburban upper class neighborhood. Every home had that same limestone brick or white overlapping paneling. Every door the same mahogany brown, tacky lawn gnomes, overly green grass, white picket fences – the works. The possibility of witnesses was high, the escape routes limited. 
Regardless, Leon was a professional, and he would make it work. He always did.
Tilting his wrist, he looked down at the gold rolex, it was a little past 2:30am. He listened closely, to ensure there was no movement inside. The double windowed back doors were his point of entry. The brass knobs were old, the locks inside not quite as intricate as modern ones, all it took was a good smack against the swiss army knife he’d jammed into it for the lock to click open. The door opened quietly, he made sure to not close it completely behind him to ensure he could make his escape. 
The house had an eerie quiet over it, almost like the universe knew what was about to happen. Leon cracked his neck and let out a breath, careful to not touch anything as he moved throughout the lower floor, clearing each room. The kitchen was pristine, nothing out of place on the island or counter. There was no homely smell of food, only the lingering scent of some harsh cleaner. Not a sign that anyone had even been down there within the past several hours – a good thing, he noted. Through the archway came the living room, he had been hopeful someone had opted to sleep on the couch, separate targets were easier targets. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t so lucky. 
The plush gray sectional was untouched, not so much as a divet into the cushion. The TV remote lay on the dark oak coffee table. Unlike the kitchen, this room felt more homely. The faint smell of some fruity air freshener was all over, the cherry walls were lined with gold plated frames of the family. 
His target was some small town politician, Jackson Moore, normally somebody not noteworthy to the government in the slightest, but he made the unfortunate mistake of shaking hands with terrorists, facilitating the sale of some new viral invention through the local pharmacies. The idea of another Raccoon City incident made his stomach turn. He wasn’t sure who he held more anger for, the people like this person who’d bring it about, or the government that he knew turned a blind eye until now – the same government who wouldn’t make the effort to save the people who uphold it. 
He shook his head, and pushed his bangs back refocusing for a moment. He scanned over the pictures. Most normal family outings, some graduation photos and holiday ones in there. Hunnigan had told him beforehand that all of the kids were off to college, none due back for several more weeks. The only targets in the house were Mr. and Mrs. Moore. 
There was only one more room on the bottom floor, where he was sure his victims were, the master bedroom. Leon made his way over, silently padding down the short hall staring at the door. It was cracked, the sound of light snoring and the smell of mint wafting from the room. He peeked inside, letting his eyes adjust to the dark room, a string of moonlight the only thing illuminating the sleeping lumps on the bed. 
He tested the door, it squealed slightly as it opened making him freeze. One of the sleeping forms moved slightly rolling over. He waited, still as a statue until he was sure that both still remained asleep before sliding himself through the narrow opening he’d made. 
Looming over the sleeping forms, he pulled his gun out from it’s holster attached to his waist. Even with the silencer, he knew he needed to be quick. One shot would wake the other, and then it was a matter of speed. He cocked the pistol, taking a few more steps towards the unaware persons before him. The gun felt heavy in his hand, but he lifted it anyway, deciding to start with the official target first. 
Will the trigger pulled back, the room lit up for a split second with the bang of the gun. Time slowed as he watched the man’s body jolt slightly, blood splattering onto the pillow, the walls. The smell of gunpowder and iron hit his nose. The man’s fingers twitched slightly before his movement stopped. Just like he had expected, his wife was awake instantly, though no noise came from her. 
Wide eyed, she stared at Leon, then down at her husband next to her. Her mouth opened like she was trying to scream, but the noise was caught in her throat, tears welled in the woman’s eyes. Blood had splattered onto her too, some chunks of brain along with it dripped from her curlers onto her lap. Her trembling hands reached over to her husband, “Jacks.” She whispered, reaching over and putting her hand on his deformed face. “Jacks.” She leaned over the man, trying to scoop the bits and pieces of him back together. 
Leon wanted to feel sorry for her, wanted to wonder if that’s how someone might react to his death some day. But he pushed those feelings aside, she was a target, culpable in everything just as her husband was. He lifted the gun again, pointing it at her.
As she looked at him, eyes wide with fear, her mouth formed the shape of a word. He didn’t need to hear it to know it was a plea. He pulled the trigger again.
Deadshot, like putting down an animal, between the eyes. 
Her body crumbled over itself as she slumped forward onto the bed, the back of her head exploded open like a volcano of bone, blood, and brain matter. 
Not dwelling on it,  he put his finger to the device in his ear. “It’s done, Hunnigan.” “Good work Leon. I’ll make sure that –”
“Hey mom, you still up? I thought I heard something.” 
The soft voice pulled Leon from his conversation, there were footsteps out in the hallway and the sound of a lightswitch clicking on. ‘Shit.’ He cursed to himself inwardly.  He took a few steps back from the door, whispering to Hunnigan. “You said there were no other targets here.” “There aren't –” “The daughter is home.” “Does she know you’re there?” “No, not yet.” 
There was a moment of silence on the line before she spoke again. “Leon.” Hunnigan’s voice was serious, she knew him well enough after all these years to know his thoughts. “Leave no witnesses.” “There won’t be, she doesn’t even know I'm here.” The sound of the fridge opening and closing indicated the girl’s location.  “Everyone at the location is a target, Leon. Everyone at the location is a witness.” “Not if she – “ “Leon, this is an order.” “I can wait for her –” “Leon –” 
“She doesn’t have to die.” “Dad, is that you?” The sound of his voice, despite him doing his best to stay at a whisper, must've alerted the girl.  There was shuffling around on the other end of the line, the next voice he heard made his blood cold. The head of the D.S.O shouting into his ear. “Kennedy, this is an order, kill her! Complete the mission. Do you understand me?”
“Understood.” He said flatly, disconnecting from the call. In a worse stroke of bad luck, the door to the bedroom swung open nearly at the same time. 
And there you were. 
Glass shattering as it hit the floor, water splattering around as the light from the hallway lit up the room from the opened door. You trembled in place as you processed the sight of things. Leon was frozen where he stood too. You were an adult, but young, more importantly innocent in all of this. Rarely in his forced-on-him career has he had to kill someone completely innocent. Usually it was the partners of criminals, civilians caught in crossfire. But never someone as young as you, never in a situation so targeted.
He hardly registered the shriek you made before you bolted. Acting purely on instinct he took off after you, the delay of his own shock didn’t matter much when he noticed the slimy trail of bloody footprints from where you’d ran through the glass left in the hallway. His own boots crunching it against the ground as he moved.  If you had been smart, you’d have turned for the front door, or even the back. Instead, nearly sliding on your own blood you went for the staircase, the one route that would trap you on the upper floor. You let out a yelp of pain, trying your hardest to only use your less injured foot to bounce up the stairs as quickly as you could, the blood matting down into the carpet with each step. 
It didn’t take long for Leon to catch up, thumping up each one loudly as his boots made contact. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t take his gun out, why he was even letting you attempt this unwinnable escape, he also didn’t know. Maybe it was just delaying the inevitable. 
He reached out for you just as you made it to the top of the stairs. A simple shove was all it took to send you flying into the decorative hall table that waited at the top. A sickening crack was heard as your head collided with the dark wood, knocking it over as you rolled over with a groan, dazed from it. Managing to prop yourself up on your elbows, Leon could see the trickle of blood that began to run down your eye and cheek, along with the starting to swell shiner from your high-speed table collision. 
You scuttled backwards, as best you could, haphazardly tossing the vase that had fallen at him. It missed, and went crashing onto the stairs. Tears mixed with the blood on your face, diluting the color, only leaving the dry specs stuck there. You looked pathetic and terrified in a way that made Leon’s heart twist.
“P-please… don’t.” You pleaded, putting your hand out and up as if that simple gesture would be enough to stop him, distance him from yourself. 
He couldn’t do this, at least not like this. He kneeled before you, cupping your uninjured cheek in his hand. “Shhhh. Shhh.” 
“P-please… I won’t tell any–” “It’s ok,” he cooed. “It’s not my style to hurt pretty girls, you know that?” He added as he scooped you up from the ground bridal style. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. Getting his DNA all over you, getting your blood on him. This wasn’t a clean kill, this wasn’t what the upper brass wanted. For the moment though, he didn’t care. “Where’s your room, Sweetheart?”
You didn’t point or make a sound, your eyes darted from him to the cracked door next to him and then back to him as you shook in his hold. He wedged it open the rest of the way with his foot, before gently placing you down on your bed. It didn’t look right, all the blood staining into the fresh and plush sheets. It was different than your parents downstairs, the whole room screamed you. From the decor on the walls, to the laptop on the nightstand, your college hoodie hanging off the back of the chair at your desk. More reminders that you didn’t deserve this. 
Before you could, he swiped the phone off of the side table, stuffing it into his pant pocket. “I know you hurt right now.” He said sweetly, “Give me a minute and we’ll get you all cleaned up, alright?” He gave you a moment to process his words. ‘What the fuck am I doing?’ He asked himself, as he held your hand, patting your arm gently. He could see the confusion in your eyes as the gears in your head turned to try and make a decision – timidly you nodded. He shot you his signature smile. “Atta girl. Stay here for me, no funny business.” Pointing a finger gun at you before he slipped out into the hallway and into the upstairs bathroom. 
The suddenly bright lighting stung his eyes, he saw himself in the mirror, your blood speckled onto his jacket, some dried to his face. He looked rough, a cold sweat broken out onto his face, blue eyes distant looking back at himself. He splashed some cold water onto his face to calm his nerves before digging around to see if there was anything he could use to alleviate some of your pain, even if temporarily. The medicine cabinet was well stocked, though nothing would be enough to really combat the pain of your cracked head and torn up feet. He bit his lip as he grabbed some bandages and the bottle of peroxide. 
First aide wasn’t really his specialty, but he knew enough from training. Along with the other supplies, he filled the empty cup on the counter with warm soap water, and took the washcloth with him. 
To his surprise you were exactly where he’d left you, splayed out on the bed, looking scared and exhausted. Your head rested against the pillow, eyes staring up at the ceiling. “I’m going to take a look at your feet first.” Not that he really gave you the option, but you nodded in return. Leon was no stranger to gore, guts, and the rest, but something about them gave him pause. There was so much blood he could hardly see what was skin and what was glass. “It might sting just a little.” He assured, pouring the cold liquid out onto your feet. You hissed and squirmed a bit, but he placed his arm over your ankles to keep them still, watching as the peroxide bubbled, clearing away the redness of the blood. Small pieces of glass fell with it onto the now stained carpet. He opted to speak to you, see if he could get you to calm down some more while he worked, pouring more over the wounds. “You’re in college?” There was something about you that was indescribable to him, familiar to him, and he wasn’t sure why. 
“Yeah.” Finally you answered with words, voice barely above a whisper.  “Shouldn’t you be at school then? I thought the semester was still going.” He as he checked you over for any more obvious glass. When it was clear the peroxide had done it’s job, he took the bandages, gently wrapping them around your feet, gauze padding them. 
“D-dropped out.” You squeaked out. “Last minute decision, had to come home.” He tied off the bandage before moving to look at your face. “School’s not for everyone. You’re probably better off without it.” Leon dipped the washcloth into the cup, wringing it out over the carpet, not really caring about the mess. He dabbed it gently against your injured face, helping to remove the remaining mess and to get a better look. Luckily the cut above your eye seemed superficial and the blood had stopped running, it was just a matter of cleaning up the  dried mess that was left over. He was careful around the tender purple skin as he cleared as much as he could. “You have a boyfriend you leave back at school?” 
“No. Never had one at all actually.” You replied, wincing when he accidentally touched a painful spot.  “Never had one?” He asked more for himself than as a real question to you. ‘Hasn’t finished school, never had a boyfriend. This is so fucked up. She can’t be any older than Ashley was…’ He thought to himself, debating whether the court marshalling would be worth letting you go. In the same train of thought, he considered what would happen to you if he did. The government would probably send someone else just like him, someone less soft. He bristled at the thought, sitting up straight on the side of your bed. “That’s a shame, I would’ve thought a cute girl like you would be drowning in guys asking her out.”  “Not really” You seemed to relax a bit now, well as relaxed as a person could be in your state. He could still tell from your blown pupils and 1000 mile stare that you were still in shock. Probably a good thing. “My parents are… were, strict.” Your face contorted like you were about to be sick at the memory. 
Leon went back to stroking your cheek gently for comfort. “So no boyfriend, ever have your first kiss? First time?” Now that he had a better chance to really look at you, all cleaned up he realized who you reminded him of. Not so much Ashley, she was more strong willed and you didn’t quite look the part either. It wasn’t just the age, no…your voice, mannerisms, the way you looked. It was so very much her. Someone he hadn’t thought about since before even Raccoon City.
“Yeah. Wasn’t very good, some drunk frat boy.” You admitted leaning slightly into his touch. Silence passed between you both, nothing but the ceiling fan whirring above you. An automated air freshener spritzed roses and lilac into the air, barely covering the distinct peroxide and blood smell. Leon was surprised when you finally spoke again. “Why did you do it?”
The look on your face gutted him more than it should have. “I had to.”  “Because of his job?” “Something like that, yeah.”  “Did he deserve it?”  “Yeah.”
You nodded, turning your eyes away from the ceiling to look at him. There was another tense silence before you spoke again. “Are you going to kill me too?” 
He felt a chill ran over his body at the question. He leaned forward pressing his forehead to yours, moving his hand up to stroke your hair. “I don’t want to.” It wasn’t a real answer and he knew that, but it was honest.  “Why are you being nice to me?”  “I told you, I don’t like to hurt cute girls.” “That’s not it.” 
How you read him for filth like that he’ll never know. “You remind me of someone.” He leaned back just enough to look at you again, but kept your faces close, so close he could feel the warmth of your breath on his face.  “Who was she?”  “My first girlfriend.” He admitted.  “What happened to her?”  “We broke up.” He said with a short laugh. “Right before my very first day as a cop.” While the conversation was far from appropriate for the situation, he supposed it worked to calm you down more as he felt you relax into the bed. His internal struggle was still playing tug-of-war with his psyche, not sure of how to proceed.
The piece in his ear picked up with some static before Hunnigan’s familiar voice was heard. “Leon are you there?” 
He ignored her in favor of continuing to dote over you, hand gently running through your hair, taking in your features more. That trepidation never left your eyes – he understood it. He probably looked psychotic right now, a murderer who was being eerily kind. He was self aware enough to know that much. 
“Leon, we haven’t heard a status report. Has the last target been eliminated?” She spoke loud enough this time that while it couldn’t have been above the lowest whisper for you, it was obvious you heard it, eyes widened again, mouth opening slightly. To keep you quiet he leaned forward pressing his lips to yours, a soft kiss you didn’t really return. “Stay quiet for me, ok?” He mumbled against your lips, before sitting up again. He considered replying to Hunnigan, but looking down at you, he took his earpiece out, tossing it to the other side of the room instead. 
Hey eyed you again, before adding another kiss. ‘I shouldn’t be doing this.’ He reprimanded himself, as he placed another this time to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then jaw. Another on your neck for good measure. ‘I should’ve done it the second she opened the door. I should’ve done my job.’ Despite his mind’s dialogue he continued now at your collar bone. ‘Like ripping off a band aid…. I can’t let her last moments be like that.’ He began to rationalize as he looked up at you. “Let me make you feel good.” 
“Wh-what?”  “You deserve better than a drunk frat boy. Let me make you feel good.” He repeated.  “Why?”  “Because I want to.” He could clock the nervousness in your voice immediately. “You can say no.” He added. “I’m not a rapist.” 
“A-are you going to kill me if I say no?”  “No, of course not.” Again, it wasn’t technically a lie. He wouldn’t be doing it because you declined, but he felt mild disgust with himself for side-stepping the reality of the situation again. ‘It’s better this way though. For her.’ 
“Ok.” You said, nodding at him to continue.  He treated you like glass, gently working your thin tank top up and over your breasts. He continued by kissing each one tenderly before taking your left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until he felt it pebble. When you whimpered at the feeling, he began to suck on it, kneading your other breast with his hand. When he pulled himself off with a pop, he looked down at you, lips parted, eyes closed. Enjoying so much despite him having done so little. Adorable. 
He ran his thumb along your bottom lip until he saw those pretty eyes crack open before capturing your lips again, taking the chance to slip his tongue inside once parted. You were sloppy with inexperience, but tasted like dessert, sweet. It made his cock twitch against his pants. He groaned slightly into your mouth, ignoring his own need. Pulling away he let you catch your breath, giving him the chance to move down your body one kiss under your breasts. The next above your naval – stomach contracting slightly. He added one more above the hem of your night pants. 
He looked up at you, silently checking with you if it was alright to continue again. When you nodded, he helped you out of the pants. Gently tugging them down from the waist band, lifting each separate leg himself, careful to not hurt your already injured feet. “You alright?” “Y-yeah.” 
“Let me know if anything hurts, ok?” “Ok.” “Good girl.” 
Leon tugged his leather jacket off discarding it on the floor before rolling up the sleeves of his button up. He claimed a spot between your legs, lifting one over his shoulder for better access to what he was about to do. He gave a reassuring kiss to your thigh, using a free hand to part your folds, rubbing his thumb over your clit gently. He eyed you watching as you melted under his touch, soft whimpers tickling at his eardrums. “Such a pretty girl.” He cooed, replacing his thumb with his tongue, swirling it around the sensitive bud. 
He had to grind down on the bed himself to relieve some of his own tension, reminding himself to keep his focus on you. His grip on your leg tightened as you arched your back, squirming more and more against his touch.  “God…oh god…” You chanted, head tossed back, the leg draped over his shoulder kicking at his back. He knew you were close when your voice cracked, soft gasps escaped your lips. He continued lapping at you as you ground against his face, letting you ride through your orgasm – only stopping when your hands made purchase in his hair to get his attention. “C-can’t…can’t.” 
Pulling back, he wiped your slick off his chin with his forearm, looking down at you. He watched as your chest heaved slowly, returning to a normal rhythm. Your uninjured eye was lidded less with shock and more with that familiar coming down of pleasure. He went to move back when you grabbed his arm, looking directly at him. “What about you?”  He was a little shocked by the words, your concern for him. “I said I wanted to make you feel good.” He chalked it up to your likely traumatized and now lust hazed brain. “Don’t worry about me.” Leon made the motion to move again.  “Wait.” You called, grip on his arm tightening. “What if… what if I want to?” 
He didn’t move, unsure of how to respond. He’d already fucked up the mission, already covered you in his DNA, yours on him – but he couldn’t do what you were asking. That was too far.
“P-please?” You choked out, tears now welling in your eyes, spilling over and staining your cheeks again. 
And just like that he was taken back to that day again, right before Raccoon City. A night he swore was the worst of his life, until he knew better. Sitting there across from him, begging him not to go – you sounded just like her too, like she was frozen in time beneath him. Even worse, this was the opposite of what he wanted, he wanted to make things easier for you, relax you.  “I just want to be close, please? Please?” You were full on crying now, face scrunching up, barely able to catch your breath.  “Ok. Ok.” He said, leaning down to kiss you again. “Shhh, don’t cry. Don’t cry. How do you want me to take you?” Your words came out between sniffles and hiccups. “Any way, you want.” 
He nodded, sitting back enough to help you sit up, slipping your shirt off all the way. “Can you flip over for me? Lay down flat on your stomach.” He helped you comply with the command, still careful of your injuries. He could see the bandages on your feet had turned a slight pink. Once you were laid out the way he wanted, relaxed, face down into the pillow, he worked his own shirt off, tossing it over in a pile atop his jacket. His gun was removed from the holster, he was careful to lock the safety, discarding it with his other items. He left his pants on, undoing them enough to free his half hard cock, the head still weeping. 
He spat in his hand, giving himself a few good tugs, feeling himself hardening fully again. “You ready?”  “Yeah.”  He crawled forward, gently lifting your butt up just enough for him to line himself at your soaking entrance. He grunted when he pressed in, you sucking him in warm and wet. He let you take a moment  to relax down again as he leaned forward, pressing the entirety of his bare chest to your back, sinking his cock in slowly until he was buried all the way inside of your heat. 
He kissed up your shoulders, and neck, rolling his hips into your slowly. “God you’re tight baby.” He whispered against your ear. He didn’t have the heart to rail you into the mattress, wanting to abate your request for closeness, intimacy.  “S’big…” You lazily mumbled into the pillow.  “I know, I know.” He crooned your neck just enough for him to lock your lips together again. “But you’re doing so good, taking me so well.” Letting you rest, he returned to focusing on the motion of setting a steady but not too rough pace, angling himself so that he hit that spot inside of you that had you whimpering again. He rewarded the noises by rolling you both onto the side, where he could wrap an arm around you like a tight hug, leg gently pulled over over his own so he had a better angle.  Likely for the best, Leon was close already, he slowed down more, returning to simply rolling his hips as he trailed his hand down your stomach, ghosting it over your naval and thighs before rubbing at your clit for a bit as he kissed and sucked softly against your neck. He fucked you like he would’ve done to her, like you were his lover, the most important thing to him. 
Your velvet walls felt like heaven as they squeezed against him, closer and closer to your own second orgasm. “That’s it baby.” He whispered hotly against your ear. “One more time for me, ok?” He sped up his fingers, feeling you tighten around him so much that he nearly felt his own eyes roll back. “G-good girl.” He praised, gripping your hip to speed up his own movements, his balls tightening as he came, cock throbbing as spurts of his seed painted your insides. 
Leon held you like that for a while, curling in on you, offering soft praises as he nuzzled into your neck from behind. He didn’t move a muscle until your breath evened out completely, and he could tell by the low thrum of your heartbeat that you were incredibly close, if not already asleep. He looked up at the clock on the nightstand – 4:45am it read. He had about 20 more minutes max before someone from HQ would be sent in as backup, now that he’d been MIA for so long. 
Now fully soft, he gently pulled himself out of you, and carefully rolled off the bed. He watched you for any more signs of movement as he buckled back up and redressed. There was that eerie silence settling over the house again, he felt heavy with the weight of the evening crushing against him like an invisible force. He wished for a moment that the world would swallow him up where he stood so he didn’t have to face his responsibilities, the consequences. 
You looked peaceful laying there. He knew it was just the exhaustion, shock, and grief, that kept you tugged under the waves of unconsciousness, but for his own sake he pretended you were in a truly relaxed state. Moreso, he was glad you wouldn’t experience any more of that pain or fear tonight.  Leon clicked the safety off the gun, watching you for any signs of movement. Not even a twitch as he cocked the gun again. He walked over, sitting at the side of the bed again, eyeing you over one more time. It felt like he was saying goodbye to a lot of things at that moment, his ex all over again, your future,  another piece of the man he wanted to be.  “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this, you know?” He whispered, mostly to himself as he pressed the barrel of the pistol to the pillow. 
He couldn’t look this time. He wouldn’t look this time.  His chest tightened, having to take a moment to stop the bile trying to work its way up, and the urge to cry that had him wanting to heave against the floor. He grabbed his earpiece as he made his exit. 
“This is Kennedy to HQ – the last target has been exterminated.” 
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shotmrmiller · 5 months
Text
Submitting to his dominance part I
Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader
TW: mean dominant, rough oral
18+ MDNI
WC: 1.5k
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Being Johnny’s best friend had its downsides. Like how he essentially forced you into ‘guy talk’. Yeah, sure, you liked women too. But having to listen to him rant about his conquests was going to make you tear your hair out. You liked women, you did, but this buffoon going on about what he liked to do in bed was too much. He was essentially your brother from another mother. Ew.
An hour into his stories, you tell him that if you have to sit through any more of his freaky sexcapades, you might just murder him. And that’s how he brings up Ghost. You’ve met him several times— being Johnny’s residential pest. He was a big motherfucker who always had his face covered. You always were a sucker for the tall, dark, and mysterious type but he always seemed uninterested in everything— including you.
“Ye think I’m a reprobate, hen, ye should hear ‘bout Ghost! He’s the freaky one! Telling the lasses he’s with to kneel and behave or will spank them ‘til they cry. Ghost is a skyrocket, I tell ya!” And that gets your attention. 
“What?” you blurt out. 
“Yeah, hen! He’s into the whole collar and gags— boorish if ye ask me.” 
You could kiss Johnny. Having more than dabbled in the world of BDSM, you knew you could handle many things— maybe even more than what Ghost offered. You bite back an ecstatic smile as Johnny continues with his story-telling, but you aren’t listening anymore.
Unbeknownst to Johnny, he’s just given you a way into Ghost’s trousers.
You lounge on the couch as Ghost and Johnny sit around the island drinking. By the sound of Johnny talking in cursive, he’s more than a little sloshed. Then he slaps his hand on the countertop, the sound startling you, and declares how he’s gonna go take a piss. You roll your eyes. Charming.
He stumbles away and then it’s just you two in the living area. This is your only chance. Steeling your nerves, you make your move. 
“Hey. Ghost.” 
He turns his head to the side a little, a cue that he’s listening. 
“I have a proposition for you.” Then stand up and make your way towards him, casually leaning against the island. Ghost looks completely lax, but his eyes sparkle with slight interest. 
Now or never.
You summon your courage and say, “Johnny spoke of you being dominant in bed. I want you to dominate me.” 
He looked at you with a hooded gaze, before scoffing. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, pet.”
That’s not an outright no. This horse isn’t dead yet, so you’re gonna continue to beat it. 
“Said you like to collar your women. Keep them quiet with a gag. I can crawl on my knees if you ask it of me. I’ll speak when spoken to.” 
Ghost’s shoulders are stiff as he stares around your face as if trying to catch a sign of a prank. He inhales and looks like he’s about to shut you down completely but you talk first.
“My safeword is Pelican. I like to be ordered around, spanked, and tied up. I promise to surrender myself completely. I promise to be a good girl for you.”
Ghost sits there, looking at you in complete silence. Your heart pounds in your ears, your cheeks warming in embarrassment. Maybe he’s not interested. Maybe Johnny had been joking. God, you didn’t even think about it being a bloody joke.
You straighten, getting ready to either run away or curl up and die when two big hands grab onto your hips— keeping you in place.
“You want to be dominated, eh?” and pulls you to stand in between his legs.
“I’m not going to be kind,” and tightens his grip on you, “I’m not going to murmur sweet nothings in your ear. I’m going to use you for my pleasure— like my personal sex toy.” 
One hand moves from your waist to grab your hair in a vicious grip and pulls you down to his eye level, close to his masked face.
“Oh, pet. I’m going to ruin you.”
You swallow hard because you know he is and can’t wait but then the sound of the bathroom door opening brings you back into the present. Ghost lets go of your hair and you jump back, putting space between you. 
As you run your fingers through your hair, Johnny stumbles into the kitchen, tripping over a chair. Positively pissed. You move to catch him, putting his arm over your shoulder, yours around his waist to hold him upright.
“Right, Johnny boy, it’s time for bed.” you chuckle at his drunken mumbles.
After tucking him in, you head back to the kitchen. To Ghost. You watch him put his used glass into the sink before crossing his arms and leaning back. Expectantly. As you’re about to walk to him, he holds his hand up in a stopping gesture. 
“No. You’re gonna be a good girl f’me, remember?” he cocks his head to the side, and with finality in this tone says, “Crawl.”
Oh. Your heart is about to burst out of your chest. It starts now. Your reaction is visceral— dropping to your knees so hard they’ll be bruised tomorrow. Holding eye contact, you slowly drag your body towards him. One hand forward, then a leg. Repeat. 
Reaching his feet, you keep your palms flat on Johnny’s wooden floor and arch your back to look up at Ghost with wide eyes. He looks cool, indifferent. But the bulge in his jeans tells you otherwise. 
You wait for him patiently, continuously holding eye contact and it feels like an hour has passed before he talks. Commands.
“Take my cock out.” 
Your thighs tremble in anticipation, your pussy throbbing at his words. Hands to his waist, you can’t unbuckle his belt fast enough. You hook your fingers into his pants and pull hard enough that you hear a seam unstitch. That earns you a slap across the cheek, hard enough to sting. 
“Careful.” You wish you could say it was a reprimand but the feel of his calloused fingers on the soft skin of your cheeks sends a jolt straight to your cunt. 
Pants down, you stare at his cock. It’s a goddamn sight. Long and so very thick, heavy enough that even erect, it bends downward— foreskin covers half of the head and balls hang low. A masterpiece. 
Another slap to your cheek snaps you out of your adoration. 
“Open your mouth, pet.” 
He tastes of salt and his musk. You could sit here with him in your mouth forever. You go as deep as you can take him and he hisses when you hold him there until you gag and pull back— getting the stringy saliva from the back of your throat onto his cock. Flattening your tongue, you start to bob on his length until he’s properly wet. 
Ghost puts his hand on your head and begins to rock his hips and you start to add a twist with your head on every thrust. Soon, you feel him leaking more salty precum and know he’s close so you start sucking— cheeks sinking in. His thrusts start to get harsher and sloppier and the noises coming from your throat as he fucks it is sinful.
His grip shifts from your head to your hair and you put your hands on his thighs— digging your nails into his skin and he growls out, “That’s it. Come on, pet, you can take it.” 
Then there’s salty blooming on your tongue, cum leaking from the corners of your mouth because there’s simply no more room with his cock in it— dripping down your chin and onto the floor. It’s completely silent apart from Ghost’s stuttering breaths and Johnny’s muffled snoring behind his closed door.
Ghost pulls out his softening length and tucks it away, pulling his jeans back up but leaving the belt unbuckled. He then cups your jaw and makes you watch him watch you swallow his cum.
He gives you a light tap on your reddened cheek from his previous slaps and breathily says, “Atta girl. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.” 
Your knees throb and your thighs burn but his compliment makes every single ache worth it. Any crumb of praise from him, you’ll take. 
He bends down to your kneeled form before saying, “Next week, I’m gonna pass by your flat. Until then, you do not masturbate, you do not come— And I don’t care what you tell Johnny but make sure he doesn’t visit.” and turns to leave. 
Clearing your throat, you croak out, “But you don’t even have my address.” 
Holding the door open, Ghost shrugs. 
“Don’t have to tell me. I know where you live, pet.”  The noise of the door clicking shut echoed through the apartment. With a groan, you put your arse on the floor and slowly extend your knees— hissing at the sharp pain of your knees finally unbending. Ghost is mean. So mean. How does he expect you to not touch yourself when the cum still drying on your chin has you soaking your knickers?
@thychuvaluswife
A/N: ha ha! hes a lean mean machine! i had way too much fun writing this i need help
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reareaotaku · 8 months
Text
Call Me, Baby
Summary: You got a call when being home alone and it turns into something much darker Characters: Yandere! Billy Loomis x Reader Word Count: 1.7k Tw: NSFW, Phone Sex, Non-con, Dry humping
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You stretched your hands out before sighing and going into your kitchen to get a snack. The grandfather clock in the hallway clicked as time stretched forward. You yawned, opening the cabinets before hearing a familiar ring. You frowned, looking at the phone for the caller ID. Unknown.
You pick it up, putting it to your ear, "Hello?"
"Hey Y/n~"
You tilted your head, holding the phone, going back to the cabinets, "Who is this?"
"Oh, you know who I am."
You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
" "Scary night isn't it? With the murders and all. It's like right out of a horror movie or something."
"Oh yeah. It all starts with a call, before the Ghostface slashes them. Pretty scary. But I'm not scared," You smile.
"Do you like scary movies, Y/n?" The man's voice deepens and you bite a lip.
He sounded kind of like Randy, "You know Randy, that think you're doing with your voice... It's kind of turning me on. Really sexy. Why don't you come over and show me a good time?"
The man on the phone scoffs, ignoring you. You didn't know that the man behind the phone was Billy and the last thing Billy wanted to think about was you fucking Randy.
"What's your favorite scary movie?"
"Oh come on, Randy, you know I don't watch that shit. But, if you come by maybe we can just skip to the triple x scenes and you can show me how realistic you are."
You hear a heavy chuckle, "Oh, Y/n, you know those scenes aren't realistic.... Are you alone?"
You look around the kitchen, "Yeah. I'll be alone for the whole weekend. So, we can go all night long."
"Are you always such a whore."
You frown, your brows and nose scrunching up. "That's not very nice, Randy."
"Maybe that's because I'm not Randy."
"Well, then who are you?"
"The question isn't who am I? The question is where am I?"
"Hopefully in my room."
"You're such a slut, Y/n. How many guys do you fuck?"
"You know, for a guy who knows me so well, how do you not know I'm a virgin?"
"You're a virgin?"
You roll your eyes, groaning, "My father would kill me if I had premarital sex. But he's not here."
The man on the phone hums and you lean on the island.
"So, what do you want, mystery man?"
"To see what your insides look like."
"How about you come," You jump onto the counter, spreading your legs, "and rearrange them instead? That sounds so much more fun. Don't you think?"
"You don't even know what I look like."
You lightly bite your nail, smiling to yourself, "Yeah, but you sound hot. Besides, you can always turn off the lights."
"I want to see your face as I slit your throat."
You hop of the counter, rolling your eyes, before exiting the kitchen and heading towards the living room. "God, way to turn a girl on. You're no fun. Maybe I should hang up-"
"If you hang up, I will fucking gut you like a fish, you bitch." He threatens, causing you to freeze. Billy wasn't going to kill you; He was bluffing, but you didn't know that. In fact, you weren't even his target, your father was. But, you picked up the phone and who was Billy to deny you?
"Well, this isn't fun anymore. So why are you calling me? To torture me?"
"Aww, you don't want to have sex with the deep-voiced man anymore?"
"Not if he's going to gut me like a fish."
"Oh, I would never ruin such a pretty blouse."
You froze, before looking down at the white blouse you were wearing. You turned around, trying to find anyone, but there was no one.
"Oh, Y/n. You really shouldn't leave your back door unlocked."
Suddenly, you hear the click of the slidding door from your back yard. You rush up the stairs, nearly dropping the phone. You look off the edge, before putting the phone back to your ear.
"What do you want from me?"
"Sweet, sweet, Y/n. What happened to all that slutty lust?"
"That was before you threatened to gut me."
You hear a click and the back door open, before quickly shutting again.
"Even if I wanted to, I would never hurt you. Unless you asked me to. You should get your cat, I'd hate for it to get hit by a car."
Your eyes widen, not even thinking as you head down the stairs. You didn't even register that the man on the phone was probably down stairs, you were to worried about your baby. As you reach for the door, you're grabbed from behind. You struggle against his hold, but there was no way of getting out.
The male overpowered you. He put a knife to your throat, causing you to gulp and look at his gloved hand fearfully.
"Scream and I'll slit your throat. Understand?"
You nervously nod your head and Ghostface picks you up over his shoulder, carrying you up the stairs. You struggle in his grasp, until you hit on the side of the head, knocking you out for a short period of time.
Ghostface pushes your door open, before throwing you onto your bed. He tilted his head when seeing you knocked out. He quietly closed the door, before locking it. He pulls your leg forward, giving him access to crawl on top of you. He lightly grabs your face, before shaking you.
You groaned, slowly opening your eyes. They widened when seeing the scream-mask face staring back at you. He covers your mouth, tsking you and shaking the knife.
"Don't even think about it." He lightly grazes your face with the knife and you can feel tears streaming down your face.
"Please..."
"Please what?" He pushed his leg in between your thighs, rubbing against your crotch. "You have to use your words.
"P-P-Please don't kill me..." You speak in between breaths.
He puts the knife away, behind him. He takes off a glove, before caressing your face. "I would never kill you. I love you too much."
"Love me?" You glare at him before slapping him, causing the mask slip.
He wipes the blood from his chin, before looking back at you. You sit up on your elbows, looking at him wide-eyed.
"Billy?"
"Surprise Y/n."
"But why?"
He removes the cloak, while pinning you down with his knee, "Why what?"
"Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends!"
He pulls some hair out of your face, "I don't want to be friends." He pushes down, before kissing your cheek. You struggled against him, but he had your hands bound with his.
You can feel his cold breath down your neck as he slowly kisses you. He sucks on the side of your neck, before going up your neck to the edge of your ear and softly biting it. You groan, feeling surrounded by the male as his body towers you. You feel the weight of his body shift to his legs as he pins your lower body down.
His hands slowly graze against your bare skin. He grabs the collar of your blouse, before pulling at it, causing it to rip.
"Ops."
You're left with only your bra on your top half. He lightly touches your neck, slowly going down your chest, before reaching your bra.
"Cute bra," He fiddles with lace of your bra.
"Fuck you."
"Oh, I plan to," He harshly grabs your boob, squeezing it, before he frowns. "This bra is quite annoying."
"It's my favorite bra, please don't destroy it," You feel the tears swell in your eyes, as they stream down your cheeks.
He hums, playing with the bra, before deciding just this once he was going to listen to you. He picks you up, before unclasping the bottle it from behind. Your head laid on his shoulder and his chest was smooshed against yours. You could feel his heartbeat beating deep; It rang through your ears like the heart in "The Tell-Tale Heart".
It was pounding in your chest, like drums. Thump, thump, thump, thump. It rang in your ears and you couldn't hear him. You could feel his wet tongue dip into your chest and suck on your perked nipples. His breath was frosty against your skin as he whispered sweet nothings into your skin.
His hand lightly groped the breast he wasn't sucking on. In any other case, this would have been nice. He was gentle and sweet, so unlike him, but he always knew how to disguise himself as the perfect lover.
He sits up, looking down at you as if he was a god. His eyes were sharp like a cats and he was looking at his prey. Billy messes with his shirt, before pulling it over his head. You hear a buckle and the crinkle of pants. You shake your head, causing Billy to grab your cheeks and coo at you.
"Aww, baby... Shhh... You want this. Remember how slutty you were on the phone?"
You look down to see one of your legs in between his, so you decide to take the opportunity and knee him in the crouch. He yells grabbing his family jewels as you run towards the door, pulling on it, before realizing it was locked.
Billy grabbed you, before shoving you against the door, "You want to play? I love the chase." He thrusts harshly into your back, forcing your face to shove against the door.
The knife has returned, and you can feel the tip just barely into the skin on your neck.
"But I don't want to play this stupid game. I want to play a much more fun game... Oh, you know the one where I rearrange your guts."
You feel his hands pull onto your jeans, unbuttoning them. He leans his chin on your shoulder and you hear him chuckle.
"Oh, we're going to have so much fun."
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