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#Mention of jail/police
kaiwiilder · 4 months
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[ avan jogia, demiboy, he/they ] — whoa! KAI WILDER just stole my cab! not cool, but maybe they needed it more. they have lived in the city for TWO YEARS, working as a/an BARISTA. that can’t be easy, especially at only 31 YEARS OLD. some people say they can be a little bit BRAZEN and RECKLESS , but i know them to be COMPASSIONATE and ADVENTEROUS. whatever. i guess i’ll catch the next cab. hope they like the ride back to QUEENS! —
PERSONALITY
kai has a very chaotic type of personality. they have a big heart of gold at the end of the day and would give anyone in need the shirt off their back, but they've got a knack for getting themselves into trouble. they are a total party animal, always ready to have a good time, and they're the person in the group of friends that always tries to liven things up with a little laugh. they can be serious when the time calls for it but for the most part, they don't see why you have to take life so seriously. they'd take the fall for a friend in a heartbeat, and that’s often gotten them into some sticky situations.
BACKGROUND / BIO
triggering / sensitive content warning: jail, police mention
Storming through the party like his name was El Niño, Kai has always had a way with making an entrance. When they were born the kid screamed so loud that the nurses were concerned his lungs would give out, but he likes to joke that he was simply training his lungs from a young age to handle his loud voice. They are the oldest of the Wilder children but by far the most levelheaded one, they give his sister that credit. What they can’t understand is how their parents still decided to have another even after all the mischievous things he managed to get themselves into, and they absolutely dragged their sister along the moment she was old enough to walk.
Throughout Kai's time in school, they were well known in the hallways, they mainly hung out with their skateboarding buddies. He loved/loves skateboarding, but they were also the type of person who were friends with what felt like everyone. Even though Kai was known as a class clown, because they truly couldn’t stop themselves from making jokes, or doing something to lighten up the dull mood certain classes put out, Kai never failed to get anything less than a B in his grades. Which surprised their teachers every single time and it was often the reason they would put up with Kai's shenanigans.
One thing about them, they are extremely loyal to those they love and care about. And that very trait is the reason they landed themselves in jail for a week. Long story short is that they went fishing with a couple of friends, one of them caught a bass that was off limits during that time of year, unbeknownst to all of them, and a police officer found it doing some rounds. Kai took the fall for their buddy and because their parents were so used to them spending the night not at home it took both of them a little bit to realize Kai had been waiting for someone to pay his $151 dollar bond so he could get released and await his court hearing. At the end of the day the whole ordeal cost their family $300 and got Kai banned for fishing in that area for a year. Now a days he can’t help but laugh at the fact that they went to jail over a fish, even their family finds it humors these days. They have been living in NYC for two years and has since grown a big soft spot for the city and his barista job.
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omg which hoe of a company sold my data I’m receiving 20 spam mails in a row 🙄
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catharusustulatus · 11 months
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My Eddie Munson analysis, with points that have already been made, but that I’ll say again:
He was probably not intended to be as popular as he became, hence his death. The Duffers and co obviously regret their decision; cue the kajillion posts, teases, and merch pieces coming out about him. They fucked up by killing him, and they know it. Will he come back? I have no idea.
Joseph was the one who made Eddie as great as he is. He helped shape the character and he gave him the depth and personality (mannerisms, rings, eye fucking Steve in all scenes, other choices, ad libs, etc) that we love him for.
To me, Eddie as a character IS a plot device. He was written to mature the party boys, specifically Dustin. He was written to die, so that Steve could live. He was written to subvert expectations, like with Chrissy, which makes you care about him.
He was also written to confirm the re-significance of Stancy, with his explicit “get her back” comments in the UD. This fascinates me because he barely knows these people, let alone what’s going on in their relationship. Why would he feel compelled to say what he said, unless he’s being used as a narrative tool to push Stancy to the forefront? I am into Stancy too personally but like, lol, who told him about what was going on? Did Robin take 5 minutes to be like “hey Eddie btw if Steve and Nancy seem awkward around each other, it’s because they used to date but she broke up with him and he never really got over her and her long distance bf has been incommunicado so I feel like there might be a chance they rekindle their love” like I guess it happened off screen! Did Dustin tell him? And while I wish we’d seen a conversation so it would make more sense why he’s saying that, we didn’t need it, because HE doesn’t exist that deeply on the page. His comment was to further someone else’s plot, not his own. (I personally also love the headcanon that he said all of that to Steve because he was crushing on Steve and was deflecting).
I have no idea what the costume and hair and makeup departments were doing when they developed his final looks, but that boy is queer. The bandana alone, I immediately thought he was going to be the first gay character in the show in s4e1. In his introductory monologue he mentions sodomy, I mean….
Lastly, everyone has already said this, but his death. Are you kidding me? It’s not just that he was another one season semi filler character that’s introduced, who you fall in love with, who dies. It’s the fact that he died so savagely, in what felt like a nonsensical way. It felt almost taunting, like here’s this symbol of what it means to be different and let’s kill him! Get it, he didn’t run away this time! Booooo 🍅🍅 that’s bad writing. He didn’t zip up his jacket! Why? He was written to make all the wrong decisions, because they so thoroughly wanted him to die, almost like his death is an important part of his character.
Whether or not he’s Kas, just haunts Dustin the way Billy haunted Max, or something in between, if he isn’t shown at all in season 5, after all the hubbub about him, I will riot.
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scentedluminarysoul · 2 years
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We need to talk about what's happening right now in Germany.
Climate activists are glueing themselves to roads to protest.
They are being ripped off, hands bleeding, by drivers. And then they (the activists, not the drivers who assaulted them) get arrested by police, who hold their limbs in such a way as to inflict the most pain they can.
Climate activists get sentenced to jail for nothing but PEACEFULLY protesting. There are calls by high ranking members of governments to jail them BEFORE they even get on the roads. 30 days of "precautionary jail sentence".
And this is completely supported by the German government. Politicians call climate activists criminals and terrorists. If you think the way Great Thunberg was treated and talked about was bad, you haven't seen anything yet.
Recently, activists protested at an airport, they were arrested, and federal ministers thanked police for their swift and hard action.
There are open calls for violence against the activists from a "newspaper" (Bild, basically German Fox News), under the guise of self defense (which doesn't apply when you are just annoyed you have to wait in traffic btw)
LET ME BE CLEAR:
These activists are being arrested and jailed FOR PROTESTING. For exerting their right to protest! A right which was granted, no joke, without any problems, WITH police protection, to Nazis during Covid lockdowns. In GERMANY.
Germany is becoming more fascist by the minute, and nobody seems to be talking about it. It fucking terrifies me.
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mejomonster · 2 years
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Republicans love to to after freedom to exist huh
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guanhengs · 7 months
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i don't want to see any white people ever again say how china, the middle east and many others asian countries are censored and that people there have no rights, don't you dare to make fun of north korea when your president wants jail for people who deny the state of isr*el, when you can't even walk around with a kufiya without being approached by the police and being told to leave, when social medias censor your post and shadow ban whoever even mentions palestine
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raccoonzinspace · 3 months
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Update Regarding my Older Cousin:
She's not coming back to our house. Apparently, she was so high off her f-cking face that she thought she lost her son in the supermarket. So, she filed a missing person's report.
Problem was, her son was at our house safe and sound. So, they incarcerated her and put her in the county slammer for filing a false report and wasting the department's time and resources.
Thus, my mom and dad booted her out for good. On that same day, she was acting belligerent and confrontational due to m-th. She's currently living with her BF at the moment, and hopefully she's doing well.
So yeah. That's the end of that character arc. Honestly, I am still not sure if we made the right decision. We did try and help her out, but still.
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bodhrancomedy · 6 months
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Guess who's on TV!
(Well, iPlayer until the 15th, that's when it airs on BBC One)
Hope Street episode 3.11, let's go!
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First of all, I'd say they did me dirty with this picture, but my university ID was exponentially worse.
Onto the spoilers!
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Our boy Matthew has arrived in Port Devine, looking a little concerned.
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For good reason when he's suddenly confronted by this lad, Dara.
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Ah, a fight which Matthew escapes by slipping out of his coat. (Pretty sure this is the take where we ripped it practically in two...)
Dara's questioned, he claims he's never met Matthew in his life. Hmm.
Police do some investigating (and some character stuff) before Dara makes his way to Matthew's mother (Louise)'s house to have a wee showdown.
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They both in a gang and Matthew's stolen a gun. Dara needs to get it back...
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Matthew's nay having it. "This is my way out. If they want the gun back, they have to let me go."
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Another fight. The gun goes off! (Poor Pete and I were convinced after take one to put some padding on. My arm looks bulky because I'm strapped up with squishy stuff and allergic to plasters so it has to be in a sock)
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Thank fuck no one was hurt. Dara gets the hell out of dodge -
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Leaving Matthew to contemplate his mortality. And other people's, but mostly his own.
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"Oh fuck, my bosses are gonna find me and murder me, oh shit. I'm far too young and pretty to die!"
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Time for Matthew and Louise to follow Dara's example and get the fuck out of here.
The police are now on the Halbridges' trail, but they discover the phone tracking them and leave it in a field.
Meanwhile, Dara's been arrested for drug dealing. He refuses to talk, clearly nervous.
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Ah, what's this on Dara's phone? So Matthew and Dara have been in a relationship for over a year now.
(The poor intimacy coordinator having to walk me through my just about second kiss in my entire life. And the third. And the fourth. And the fifth... Pete is a very sweet person. Made it all funny.) ("Relax your hand, Bodh. Just relax it. Open - open your fingers, just let me position your hand.")
They're both working for the same gang. Matthew was given the gun to hold onto by their bosses' and freaked out, running away with the weapon. His plan was to trade his freedom for the gun, but Dara was sent to get it back for the Brazier Brothers, notorious drug runners and gang leaders.
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These guys.
Unfortunately, now Dara's had to tell the Brazier Brothers that Matthew is refusing. They're going to kill Matthew and then Dara. Oh no.
But Dara has an idea where they might be hiding.
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At the caravan there's a standoff between the police and Halbridges. But when the Braizer Brothers are arrested, they're convinced to come out.
(Side note, my favourite picture of me, ever.)
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Oh no, the Halbridges are going to jail and Matthew's regretting his life choices.
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Matthew walked off to his new life inside a jail cell.
The end.
(This is where Niall Wright accidently sublexed my shoulder. To be fair to the man, I'd never mentioned it and he took his finger sliding in-between bone like a champ)
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Look, it's me!! I was on TV! Bit sad they cut pretty much all the uses of SSE (weren't allowed BSL because we still had to speak the lines), but I got to be queer and Deaf so that's pretty nice.
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Halloween prompts year 2 day 14
Tim was the best thing to ever happen to Danny.
He didn't mean that just because how much of a sappy romantic he was to Tim, but because he literally saved him from his own mind.
Danny was never going to leave Amity Park so long as the portal was open.
The portal would always remain open between his parents practically treating it like thier third child and thier ability to simply make another if anything would have happened to that one. Not to mention the super creep named Vlad.
So Danny would have stayed in Amity forever, cleaning up after his parents and being miserable.
Or ya know. Until they managed to kill him.
But then Tim came into his life and fixed everything. He befriended Danny over nightime rooftop rendezvous and groaning at his dumb (read awesome) puns.
As they got closer Sam and Tucker seemed to get both anxious and angry. Were they jealous? What right did they have after the Gregor incident?! Its true that they'd both been to busy to hand out with Danny for the past few weeks, leaving Danny with only Tim to turn to for company.
Tim pointed out that they may feel threatened knowing someone else knows his secret and Danny couldn't help but agree.
Tim pointed out that Danny was going to be stuck here cleaning up after his parent the rest of his life if he didn't find a way to stop the portal. Danny had nearly broke down at that and admitted he didn't know what else to do, so Tim devised a plan with that big beautiful brain of his.
They created a machine that ran on ectoplasm and magic that could wipe information from both technology and the human brain. They could remove all traces of ghosts ever existing in this town and erase 20 years of knowledge and research from Vlad and the Fentons minds, but it would come at a cost as magic usually does.
They would have to forget Danny existed as well. Tim offered that they could run away together.
Danny decided that was okay. The only person he had left in this town who had cared about him was Jazz and she was better off without him there to get her hurt.
Tim also had a plan to strip Vlad of his powers as well as his knowledge, and Danny was looking forward to not having to deal with him anymore
It was the day after everything went down, Tim was driving the GAV while Danny flew in the Ops Centers Jet form. They had made sure to swipe everything they could from the labs as well as everything the thought they needed to travel to Tims home dimension.
Danny had promised to help Tim uncover the secrets of his past and who he really was and to do that they essentially planned to travel around the Earth being wandering criminals.
Between Tims intellect and Dannys powers they were undefeated and unnoticed. They stole whatever they wanted and did whatever they pleased, making sure no one had to get hurt unless there was no other options.
Of course they stole cash from bank vaults as well as whatever else was in there. They couldn't stop Phantom from entering since anti-meta tech didn't affect him and couldnt track Phantom due to him being whatever he was plus the collar Tim had helped Danny design that covered up his ecto-signature.
They lived like this for over a year, breaking in to abandoned places, having waterfights in large city waterfountains (and running when they heard police sirens), tagging some of the places they'd hit when they wanted to leave a message, long romantic walks at night, lots of laughter, going on dates to restaurants (they never dine & dash. Some places make the wait staff pay which is bull and they might want to return to that establishment at some point), that one time they stole a $900 wedding cake from a homophobic bakery owner, lots of Fake out-Make outs to avoid getting sent to jail, ect.
They were having the time of thier lives up until they stopped in a little 24 hour diner in Bludhaven. They were doing what they usually do, flirting and laughing until the waiter takes thier order, when a guy approached thier table. Tim and Danny exchanged worried looks before the guy held up his hands in mock surrender, "I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise, I'm Dick Grayson." The man held out his hand to Tim, who hesitated before shaking it, "Tim," he answered honestly.
Danny nudged him with his foot under the table.
The man smiled wide, "Like Tim Drake?"
Tim and Danny looked confused, "Like who?" Danny asked and Dicks smile faltered
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inbarfink · 5 months
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Okay, so I’ve seen some Ace Attorney Fans speculate that the screwdriver featured as a minor piece of evidence in ‘Rise from the Ashes’
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Is actually the same screwdriver as the one that was a major plot-point back in ‘Turnabout Sisters’. 
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Because, well, they look pretty much the same and also it is mentioned the screwdriver is from one of Miles’ previous cases… and Miles was the Prosecutor on ‘Turnabout Sisters’. Plus, it would explain why he’s so cagey about explaining it to Phoenix during RFTA. Obviously he wouldn’t want to bring this case up in front of Wright again.
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And, well, the thing is that all of these explanations do make sense and do make it sound like this was the authorial intent, but….. There is one thing that bothers me. 
The whole Thing with the RFTA Screwdriver is that Miles got it from the Evidence Room where the crime took place. And that Evidence Room is specifically mentioned to be a special one reserved for especially violent crimes involving members of law enforcement.
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And this doesn't apply to the 'Turnabout Sisters' case but.... feels like it’s meant to be the Turnabout Sisters Screwdriver, y’know? 
So, actually, you know what I think?
Well, after an Ace Attorney trial concludes and we find the real culprit and our defendant gets the ‘Not-Guilty’ verdict… it’s not like the Real Culprit gets Immediately Sent to Jail. They get their own off-screen trial to determine their guilt officially (as we saw briefly with Luke Atmey’s grand larceny trial in ‘The Stolen Turnabout’). 
So I think that after the story of ‘Turnabout Sisters’ ended for Phoenix and Maya and us the players, Miles Edgeworth also took it upon himself to be the one to prosecute in Redd White’s own trial. Either as a way to ‘double-check’ all that Phoenix has proven in his own trial, or as atonement for almost getting this guy off-the-hook in the first place, or because it’s pretty clear that Miles is one person that Redd doesn’t have specific dirt on, or probably because of some combination of the three. 
This case against Redd White is the AI-16 Incident that is labeled on the Screwdriver, and it covers all of the charges that have been put against White - not just Mia’s murder and the wiretapping of her law office but also his empire of blackmail. That we know have involved high-ranking members of the police, some of which have been driven to suicide by White.
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As such, this will qualify the Screwdriver to be placed in the Special Evidence Vault for Dead Cop Cases, while still maintaining the connection to ‘Turnabout Sisters’!
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jyoongim · 3 months
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Hello!
I would to request if its alright.
Prisoner Human Alastor x Police!Reader.
Alastor were captured by police and was sent to jail and Reader was a professional police also she is virgin because shes too focus on her job even when she was in colloge she never experienced it.
Sorry im bad at explaining but like they fucked in alastor cell in middle of the night because Reader was assign to watch Alastor since hes the biggest criminal in the town.
So llike i dont know how reader ended up in his cell ummm you can just make a reason for it since i dont know how she also inside his cell and getting fuck
So like Reader Hate love when alastor fuck out of her brain for the first time and Instead of Escaping from the jail Alastor just Find a Toy to play with.
This been on my mind pleaseeee im on my knees just for this😭😭
THIS IS MY BIRTHDAY GIFT TO YALL
WHOOP WHOOP THATS THE SOUND OF THE POLICE!!!!
It’s giving Mrs.Officer by lil Wayne hahahaha 
themes: 18+! NSFW, fem!reader, human!alastor (criminal of the LAW), so many laws and regulations broken, flirty banter? Jail cell sex, slight dub con, manipulation, subjugation, Loss of virginity, handcuffs, black mail, humiliation, gun play, mention of murders,  toxic relationship?
Five years ago
“Alastor DuPont, you are charged with the Bayou Murders! You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law…” you snarled at the man, as you slapped your handcuffs on his wrists, hoisting him up from the ground and forcing him to the cop car.
A strained laughed escaped his throat as he glanced over his shoulder at you, white teeth showing “never would have thought you would turn on me doll hehe. How unpredictable…I like that in my women ya know?”The lanky man grinned as you slammed the door, his breath fogging up the window. His deep brown eyes were wild as he maintained a calm composure. You narrowed your eyes at him “remember that it was me who put your ass behind bars”
His eyelids dropped, his crazed smile almost splitting his face “oooh doll I’ll never forget you”
Present Day
The prison was in an uproar when the higher ups found out who they’ll be housing.
Alastor DuPont.
New Orleans Most Beloved Radio Host…was a serial killer.
And you were the unfortunate soul who was his guard.
You looked over the paperwork of your new charge, brows furrowing as you read the arrest and charges.
Disgusting scrum! You thought with a sigh, setting down the papers on your desk.
”Why is he being transferred to my floor? Ain’t that conflict of interest?” You asked the Warden, an older man in his sixties.
You were the officer who had worked the Bayou Murders case, the officer who caught Louisiana's notorious killer and arrested him. 
You were just a rookie back then, fresh out of college and putting your all into your work. You were always at the office working late and gathering evidence. Your coworkers often joked that you had no sense of fun, always refusing to go out with them for dinners or parties. You were obvious to romantic advances and often threatened to write a report for misconduct for your male officers actions.
You often heard some of the male officers describe you as ‘Stuck-up, picky, prude’ but you didn’t see an issue with that.
You took your job serious, there was never room for error in this line of work.
You were very by the book. 
You saw everything in black and white.
Control and Regulations was your game.
Which is why you were tasked guarding some of the worst criminals in the city.
That now included Alastor.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Just treat him how you do the other inmates. You’re my best officer here to handle something like him” The warden said. You were the best for this. You took a deep breath “Fine, but I want a raise” you grumbled, smiling.
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“Inmate 666 rise n shine! put your hands through the open slot” you commanded. You stood outside the steel padlock door, waiting for hands to appear to be cuffed.
Nothing.
You knocked on the door again, a warning.
You huffed, “Last chance inmate! Or I’m dragging you out!”
Silence.
You cursed under your breath and looked to your backup guard
”open the door” he looked worried but followed your orders.
The security door whirled opened and you stood in the open doorway, you hand hovered over your baton as you approached the figure laying in bed, worst case he killed himself; best case…you kick his ass out of bed. “DuPont!” You sneered, kicking the edge of his bed. The figure stirred, groaning at the bright light pouring in the small room, he stretched, joints popping and made a move to sit upon the bed.
He rubbed his eyes, reached for his glasses and finally looked at you. A smile appeared on his face “Well i must have died and went to heaven” he drawled standing up.
You took a step back out of instinct. You scoffed at him ”you wish now put your shirt on and hands behind your back.”
Alastor let out a chuckle as he reached for his shirt.
Your eyes roamed his exposed skin. Smooth, skin riddled with scars. For a lanky bastard he had quite the muscle definition.
He was handsome, the type of guy you would have happily let chat you up.
But you were the truth behind that smile.
”so what pleasure am i owed that I get to see your pretty face after so long?” He asked like he was talking about the weather. You didn’t answer him as you locked the handcuffs and nudged him towards the open door to start walking.
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“You will be provided three meals a day. One hour of outdoors activities and you’ll have recreational if you earn good behavior, but i highly doubt that. Am I clear?” You ask as he stared at you with a stupid smile. You frowned “get that smile off your face DuPont.” He only smiled harder “I can’t help it. I enjoy being in your presence my dear” 
You leaned across the table, eyes hard as you got in his face.
”listen to me you irritating prick! In here I rule. You listen to everything I say and pray I am in a good mood to deal with your shit. I can make what remains of your life hell on earth. Do I make myself clear?” You hissed.
Alastor leaned back, an amused look on his face, shrugging “Crystal”
”Good”
You walked him back to his cell after he ate and uncuffed him. Walking out you slammed the door shut and waited to hear the lock before moving to make your rounds.
”I do hope you have a good night my dear” you hear him say as you walk down the corridor, ignoring him.
—————————————————————————-
Alastor sighed as he sat on his bed. A low chuckle escaped his throat. Oh how he missed you. 
When he met you five years ago, he knew you were the one for him. There was something about you that gave him a thrill. 
He admits he didn’t count on you being a police officer; you had fooled him flawlessly. 
His cock twitched in his pants. Those pretty eyes that once held warmth were ever so chilling. 
How he couldn’t wait to break that cold demeanor of yours.
He just had to bid his time and after all he had all the time in the world with you.
————————————————————————————-
You were focused on some paperwork when two male officers popped their heads in your office.
”hey a couple of us are going for a night out you coming?” Max asked with a smile as Danny was behind him with puppy eyes.
You didn’t even look up from your work “ill pass but maybe next time guys” you hear the groan before leaving.
You shook your head lightly as you finished filling in your notes.
You looked at your watch, it was almost time to patrol.
————————————————————————————-
Alastor could hear the footsteps of the two male guards that occasionally visited his floor.
”she never wants to hang out. Fucking bitch thinks she better than us or something?” A voice whined.
”oh you know how she is. Work on the brain. She wouldn’t be so strict if she loosened up a bit hahaha i would love to fuck that.”
Alastor grimaced. Disgusting trash 
He might have been a certified lady killer, but he was still a gentleman. And lowly scrum like them didn’t even deserve to think of you that way.
You were his.
And he’ll make sure of that.
A dark smile crept on his face just at the thought.
———————————————————————————-
It was fairly quiet tonight. 
You found yourself standing outside Alastor’s cell.
”You gone say something cherie or stand guard all night. I promise I have no intention of escaping.” He purred.
You frowned “I have nothing to say to you”
You heard him laugh “really? You had a lot to say five years ago”
He was baiting you, you knew this, but your temper was hot
”You are despicable you know that? You think you so smart, but you know something Alastor? You got sloppy. Tell me. Why? Why did you kill all them girls?” You hissed, now facing the door.
You hadn’t even realized his hands were out in the slot until his large hands grasped yours.
You tensed and went to tug your hands out of his, but he firmly kept a grip.
”why? What kind of question is that? The answer is simple.” His thumbs rubbed your hands.
”No the answer was stupid. You commited those crimes, killed those innocent women for pure fun? They should have sent you to the Ward.” You said angrily.
Alastor smiled, through you couldn’t see it
”Maybe but I’m completely in my right mind I assure you. The reason for all the mess? Simple…they weren’t you” he bent down to press his lips to your knuckles.
You ripped your hands back, eyes wide “you’re sick”
He hummed, rolling his eyes.
”doesn’t change how I feel about you darlin”
He was surprise to hear the lock to his cell and the door open to reveal you.
And you were angry.
Your face was balled into a frown “It was never about me! You think I would believe that shit!” Your hand pulled your gun, aiming it at him “You’re nothin’ but a liar and a killer. Ain’t no love in that dark heart of yours. You are incapable of love.” Your lip quivered slightly, giving way to your emotions under the glare you held.
Alastor walked up to you, right up to your gun pressing against his chest, his hands were up, but he was still craning his head down at you “is that what you tell yourself about me dear?” 
That sharp smile on his face, his eyes wide “then kill me. Pull the trigger and serve justice.”
His eyes were analyzing you. You were panting, chest constricted in your uniform, cheeks flushed with anger but your plump lips wobbled.
One of his hands gently wrapped around the gun, lowering it as he pressed against your body. The other taking hold of your chin.
He lowered his head til his lips were but a whisper away, ghosting yours lightly “What i feel for you darlin, love ain’t got nothing on it”
Your brain seemed to catch up with the situation you were in and you tried to reestablish control, but Alastor had already sunk his claws in you.
Your eyes widened when his lips slammed on yours, your hand with the gun whipped to hit him across the head, but he caught it and used the momentum of your body to twirl you around and pin your arm against your back, making you drop the weapon as you wince in pain.
His lips were at your neck, nose brushing against your ear
”never drop ya guard dear, didn’t they teach you that?” He taunted.
You struggled against him as he pushed you down on the small bed, pressing you down with his weight. 
You thrashed about, body filling with panic as you couldn’t throw throw him off you.
Alastor grunted as you kicked at him, narrowing his eyes as he pressed his full weight against you.
”easy doll easy. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Well too much hehehe” his brushed his nose against yours, trailing his lips to kiss your cheeks and jaw.
With his hips fixed between your parted thighs, he pressed his hardening length against the softness of your covered mound.
Large hands cupped your breasts, and before long you heard a tear. Your eyes widened as the cold air met your chest and gasped asho Alastor quickly made work of your bra. He let out a hoarse groan as he kneaded the tender flesh, mouth wrapping around a perky nipple, causing you to gasp.
He nipped and tugged the soft nip before lavishing it with his tongue, like an apology for the harsh treatment. ”I knew you’ll have the prettiest pair of tits. So full and soft. I can’t wait to see them bruised up from my teeth”
You clenched your teeth as you tried to ignore the rather pleasant sensations running through you. With your gun somewhere, all you had was your physical strength. You might couldn’t overpower him, but you could use his weight against him.
Taking the distraction of Alastor focusing on sucking at your chest, you tightened your legs around his waist and used his relaxed posture to flip the two of you over. With your arms free, you pressed your arm into his neck, thighs holding his hips down as you tried to regain your composure.
You tried held your elbow into his throat, glaring at him as he just smiled up you.
Alastor lazily placed his hands on your hips as he raked his eyes over you.
You were disheveled, hair fizzy and face flushed. Your eyes were filled with uncertainty and another emotion. Your lips were swollen and your neck was slowly turning red. With your uniform ripped, your tits were fully exposed, nipples perked and littered with bites.
 You were beautiful 
“I am going to walk out of here and pretend this didn’t happen. You are going to stay right here until I close that door and lock it.” You said sternly, but Alastor wasn’t listening, he was grinding up into you slowly as he trailed a hand up your front, finger fondling with your ripped uniform. You went to slap his hands away when he cupped your breasts but the cold air that met your entire body made you freeze.
”That’s much better don’t you think?” He mused, fingers tapping your hips as he palmed your ass cheeks in full.
You quickly sat up, ready to get off him, when Alastor followed you up, arms locking you against him. He whispered in your ear, voice low and deep “oh you’re so precious. I can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy of yours baby” he kissed your shoulder as he pulled your panties to dip two fingers inside you.
You pushed at his chest, trying to shift your hips away but the motion made you fall back and you grunted as you fell to the floor.
Alastor sucked his fingers, moaning at the taste of you. He sat looking at you, grinning as he moved towards you. You scrambled back, wanting to put distance between the two of you, but Alastor long legs carried him to you and he wrapped a hand around ankle and dragged you back towards him, taking top mount to prevent your from flaring about like a fish.
Tears welled in your eyes as he quickly made work of his pants, freeing his weeping cock. You pressed your hands against his chest, which he took in one hand and held them over your head. He hummed a tune as he pressed his lips to your cheeks, peppering your face in kisses before locking his lips onto yours. You tried to jerk your head away but that didn’t deter him, as he bit down on your lips, crying out, your mouth was invaded by his tongue.
You barely had time to counter, when your breath hitched in your throat, feeling an unknown pressure between your thighs.
A staggered gasp turned into a pained cry as narrow hips thrusted up into you, sheathing his cock to the brim.
Alastor laughed into your mouth, licking at your teeth “Oooh? So I’m your first hehe I’m honored.” He slotted his mouth against yours as he snapped his hips against yours, wanting you to quickly grow accustomed to his brute pace.
The sound of sticky slaps and muffled moans radiated through the cell. Your legs rested on either sides of Alastor’s hips, shaking as he rocked into your body.
“What would the other guards think if they found out you let a dangerous killer fuck you? Hmm? This breaks so many laws baby. Hehe fuck you feel good. You take me so good ha! I knew you could.” A soft whimper bubbled out your throat. Your mind was fighting, but your body was welcoming the unwanted assault. 
Your tongue lolled out your mouth as Alastor’s cock dragged along your insides, making your back arched as he hit a nerve that had you moaning.
Your soft moans spurred the man on as he angled his hips, pounding you into the cold floor.
Oh how long he had imagined fucking you. You were like nothing he could have imagined. Your tight cunt clinged to his dick as he bullied it through your walls.
He caught sight of your discarded gun and grabbed it, resting the cool metal against your skin. Your eyes widened, body freezing despite the jolts from his hips.
His brows quirked when your cunt clenched “Scared or horny baby?” He chuckled darkly, leaning back onto his knees, pulling you with him. 
He let out a soft moan as you sunk down on him, uttering dirty praise and encouragement. “You gonna ride me baby? Hmm? You gonna let a killer stretch this pussy out? Ill make you feel so good baby” he rocked up into you, softly thrusting.
You rested your head into the crook of his neck, shaking as Alatsor’s hands rubbed your back. The gun slowly trailing up your skin. One hand tangled in the roots of your hair, pulling your head back, as you felt the tip of the gun at your chin.
Alastor cooed as he pulled you down into his thrusts, making your jaw clench “k-kill me bastard” you hissed,  eyes clenched feeling his cock bury into you with a wet squish.
Alastor’s body vibrated as he let out a laugh “Kill you? Oh darlin no. then there wont be a pretty face to look forward to see everyday. I have no desire to paint the walls red with your blood haha no I want to paint your walls white” 
You leaned into his body, pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts. Your fingers dug into his skin and out of anger for the onslaughter of pleasure you sunk your teeth into his neck.
Alastor’s cock twitched as his hips snapped into yours as a response. 
Fuck! He eyes rolled slightly into his skull “careful baby. I hate to put a baby in you so soon” he chuckled.
Then the light bulb went off in his head
On second thought… 
————————————————————————————-
You shouldn’t be doing this as much. 
This was so wrong! On so many levels. 
Many many violations. 
Hell you could lose your job!
You almost hoped that another guard would come by and see what was happening so you could get out of here…but that wasn’t going to happen.
This is your floor and yours alone.
”OooH fuuuuccck, p-please! don’t… stop” you whined, throwing your head back, body leaned back with your arms trying to support your body as Alastor rammed up into your pussy. You hadn’t given much thought to sex, but he must be what girls in college use to call ‘packing’. His dick felt like it was splitting you in two, hitting that spongey nerve just right.
The man let out a gruff laugh beneath you, one hand on your hip to bounce you on his cock and the other holding that stupid gun against your clit. The cool metal sending shocks through your cunt. ”Oh you’ve made such a mess darlin” he tsked, eyes focused on his cock disappearing into you. A frothy cream coated the base of his cock, making both of your inner thighs sticky.
“But you’re so pretty when you’re messy.” He smirked, tilting his head
”I-I hate you!” You cried as he pinched your clit, slowly drawing tight circles on the bud. He hummed, kissing up the column of your neck “But your cunt says otherwise” he purred as he started pulling you down harder into his thrusts. Your eyes rolled as loud moans and whines left your throat. You might didn’t realize, but you had been fucking him back since the very beginning.
All that pent up frustration and tightly bound moral code snapping the second his cock breached your virgin walls.
Your cunt fluttered around him as he sucked a tit into his mouth. He released the sore nipple with a pop,tonguing it as he watched your face distort with pleasure as he had you met his thrusts.
“You’re everything I imagined and so much more” he whispered. He couldn’t help but admire you like this.
You opened your mouth to say something snarky, but he caught your lips as he sped up his pace, swallowing your gasps as he hit the sweet spot that had you mewling.
He felt your cunt clench and contract, allowing him deeper access to nirvana.
“Don’t you wanna cum baby? Because i know i do fuuck! Be a good little slut for me baby” Alastor hissed, feeling his dick twitch.
Your orgasm must have been approaching because you started to push against him, hips trying to raise and get off his dick.
Oh you weren’t going anywhere.
A gasp escaped you, your eyes wide as he tightened his hold on your hips “N-no no no no Alastor stop! Dont!” You pressed your hands against his chest to try and lift off him, but to no avail.
He laughed in your ear wickedly ”you are going to cum on my cock whether you like it or not baby ”
He wrapped his arms around you, forcing you to take the full force of his thrusts, wanting to break you from his cock.
You whimpered, eyes clenching as you buried your head in his shoulder. Your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you tense and hips grind into his to instinctively ride out the pleasure 
“I’m cumming ooh fuck fuck fuck! Alastor!” You whined loudly, body slumping as you shook against him.
Alastor kissed your shoulder as your cunt fluttered, hips stuttering and with a groan he cummed inside you, pressing you down to take all his dick as he painted your walls.
His dick twitched before he pulled out of you, smiling as his cum slowly leaked out of you as you slipped off his lap, glaring at him as he smiled at you.
Your eyes widened as he pulled a small tape recorder from his pocket.
”I think your boss would be very surprised to hear you fucking a criminal heheh”
tears welled in your eyes as you reached for the device, but he held it out of reach, opting to grab your hair and pull you flush against his cum covered cock.
”but don’t worry my dear, no one will know your little secret…as long as you play nice” his teeth split through his smile as he tapped the tip of of his dick against your lips.
”After all I wouldn’t want to lose my assistant again after breaking her in finally don’t you agree?” He hummed as he pushed his dick into your mouth, sighing as you gagged around him.
“That’s my good girl”
He never forgot about you. 
How could he?
You were his favorite doll after all….
—————————————————————————————-
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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months
Text
We've Got a Problem
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!fiancée!reader
Summary: When you get arrested on Tim's day off, you have to call someone to get you out of jail. Tim doesn't answer when you call, but when he finds out what happened, he makes it a bigger problem.
Warnings: grumpy!Tim, fluff, mentions of homicide and drug trafficking; reader doesn't commit any crimes, so misunderstanding?
Word Count: 1.1k+ words
Picture from Pinterest
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You can't decide what's funnier: that you are in police custody, that the arresting officers refused to believe that you are Tim Bradford's significant other, or that Tim isn't answering his phone.
When you switch tactics to call Wesley Evers instead of Tim, you decide that the last option is the funniest part of this ordeal.
"Hey," Wesley answers.
"This isn't a personal call," you begin with a chuckle. "Would you believe me if I said I'm currently being detained at LAPD Mid-Wilshire division on suspicion of a triple homicide and drug possession?"
"I really hope for Tim's sake you're joking."
"I'm not. I need a lawyer, Wesley. But I also need to ask you to find Tim to get me out. No one here will believe that he's my fiancé and he's not answering my calls."
"Can't imagine why they're so sure he's single. I'll get him down there and ask for the evidence. We'll get this thrown out, don't worry."
"I'll stop worrying when I'm out of here. Thank you, Wesley."
“Don’t hang up, I’m patching Tim in.”
“What do you want, Wesley?” Tim asks when the line connects.
“I want to know why you answer for him but not for me,” you interject.
Tim says your name before asking, “Where are you?”
“Jail,” you and Wesley answer together.
“What? Which station?”
“That’s your question?” Wesley replies. "Not what she did?"
“Your station,” you answer. “And I’d like to go home.”
“I’m on my way. Wesley, talk to me.”
“They’ve got her on suspicion of homicide and drug trafficking. Angela sent me part of the case file and it seems like you fit the physical description of the suspect, but that’s it. I have no doubt we can get this thrown out by the end of the day.”
“Tim, I’m sorry,” you offer. “I know it’s your day off.”
“At least it’s a good story,” he grumbles.
“Tim, I may have told a few cops that I’m your fiancée. They didn’t believe me, but I- I’m sorry for telling them.”
“Fantastic. I’m hanging up, I’ll be inside in a minute.”
“How mad is he really?” Wesley asks.
“I don’t think I want to know. Maybe I should’ve just asked you to come.”
“Good luck.”
✯✯✯✯✯
Tim yells your name when he walks into the holding area. He looks at you as you stand, walking to the cell door as another officer unlocks it.
“I’m really sorry,” you whisper as you step out.
“Later,” Tim answers, gesturing for you to follow him.
You walk behind Tim and the officer, waiting by Tim’s side as he completes paperwork.
“And what’s your relationship?” the officer behind the desk asks.
“I’m her fiancé,” Tim answers.
The officer raises his eyebrows but nods as he slides a paper to Tim. Tim carries the paper in one hand, raising his other arm to direct you into a nearby office.
“Sergeant Grey, a word?” Tim asks.
“Sure. Who’s your friend?”
You say your name, shaking Sergeant Grey’s hand.
“My fiancée. Celina and Nolan just booked her on suspicion for Lopez’s case.”
Sergeant Grey presses his lips together but fails to hide his smile as he begins laughing, leaning backward while he wipes an amused tear from his eye.
“Let me guess, you told them that you’re with Bradford and they didn’t believe you.”
“Uh, exactly,” you answer, surprised at how quickly he determined what happened.
“I’ll talk to Nolan,” Grey promises.
“I can do it,” Tim responds.
“No, Bradford, I’ll handle it. It won’t happen again.”
“It better not, or I’ll intervene.”
“I’m sorry,” Grey tells you. “The charges won’t be filed, so you’re not going to be impacted other than the inconvenience this afternoon. I apologize on behalf of the entire department.”
“It’s not a problem,” you answer softly.
“It is a problem,” Tim says before exiting the office. “Nolan!”
“Tim,” you call, rushing out after him. “What’re you doing? They didn’t even believe me about you.”
“Not the biggest problem. Nolan!”
“Uh, yes?” Nolan asks, glancing over Tim’s shoulder at you.
“You arrested my fiancée on a completely baseless allegation. Because she looks a bit like a suspect in a huge case. That is not good police work, that’s being lazy and making connections where there are none.”
“I-“
“Unless you’re about to apologize, stop talking. Care to explain why you heard my name and didn’t do anything?”
“She claimed to be your fiancée. What was I supposed to do, just believe who I thought was a suspect in numerous felony cases?”
“Doesn’t sound like an apology.”
“What are you so mad about? I did my job.”
“You did what you think your job is. As a TO, it is on you to make sure Celina is prepared to do her job without you. Bringing people in because they fit what is possibly the most generic physical description ever is not being a good officer.”
“This doesn’t sound like letting me handle it,” Grey says, stepping out of his office.
Tim clenches his jaw before pointing at Nolan. “For the record, she is my fiancée and I will not forget this.”
“You have a fiancée?” Nyla asks as she stops in the middle of the bullpen. “Wait, are you the one who got brought in for Angela’s felonies? The one who called Wesley?”
“Yeah,” you answer, supplying your name as you introduce yourself.
“Oh, this story needs to be told.”
“Don’t,” Tim warns.
Nyla pulls her phone from her pocket, smiling as she types. “Too late.”
“So much for my day off,” Tim grumbles.
“I got arrested today, and you had a long day?” you ask.
“We’re leaving.”
Tim leads you to his truck, sighing as he sits back in the driver’s seat.
“Tim-“
“Don’t apologize again. I’m not mad at you, for anything. Just… this is so stupid,” Tim concludes, smiling as he laughs.
“You’re telling me. Although Nolan and Juarez got a good laugh out of the idea of you having a fiancée.”
“I don’t think that’s funny,” Tim responds. “I think I just got very lucky.”
You smile, leaning across the console to kiss Tim.
“Excuse me, you’re parked in a tow-away zone. Tim?” an officer asks through the open window. She gasps before asking, “Is this your fiancèe?”
“Bye, Chen.”
Tim pulls out before she can say anything else, and you laugh at his dramatic sigh.
“Can you stay out of trouble for the rest of my day off?” he asks.
“I may need some incentive.”
“Then spend it with me. Not calling Wesley Evers from a jail cell.”
“Deal.”
You take Tim’s hand and smile. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles, keeping you close as he drives to his house.
"Wait, we should take a picture," Tim says after parking in his driveway.
"For what?"
"To commemorate your first arrest."
You roll your eyes but smile anyway. Tim takes the picture, and when he looks down to see how it turned out, you cup his face in your hands and kiss him. While he's thoroughly distracted, you try to grab his phone, but he moves it before pulling you closer. Maybe getting arrested and letting Tim's coworkers know he's engaged wasn't all bad.
562 notes · View notes
mulletmitsuya · 4 months
Text
Tokyo Revengers Groupchat (Final Timeline)
Warnings: suggestive (i might have to change this warning to "mentions of sexual content" bcs it's too tame of a warning for the stuff that's actually in here), swearing, the word "pedophile" is mentioned, mentions of substance abuse
Desc: Everyone finds out Takemitchy and Mikey are time leapers, which leads to some...interesting questions
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Mitsuya: so let me get this straight
Mitsuya: you're a time traveler, and you've lived dozens of timelines to prevent Hina from dying but she kept dying anyway but then when you got to one where she didn't die, Mikey was some deranged criminal lord and was miserable and depressed and tried to kill himself so you had to go back in time again to make sure everything was fixed but ended up dying while fighting Mikey but then somehow you both went back in time and rewrote all of our entire lives??
Takemitchy: yeah...
Baji: cap
Mikey: it's not
Mitsuya: so Mikey's a time traveler too?
Mikey: yeah it's crazy i know
Draken: do you guys have any way to prove this?
Chifuyu: this explains why i keep getting random visions of me in alternate universes. holy shit
Haruchiyo: weird ass prank
Takemitchy: i think it happened since you're close to me and we basically did everything together. i'm not sure
Inupi: we're just gonna believe this?
Koko: wait, i kind of do
Kisaki: this...defies all logic of anything ever.
Mikey: shut up Kisaki
Mikey: i'm sorry it's just that in ever other timeline you've ruined my life so it's difficult to be nice to you sometimes
Kisaki: so you don't like me because of something i did in another universe?
Takemitchy: *timeline
Mikey: yeah. my bad
Baji: i'm gonna entertain this cause i'm bored but what was i like in other timelines
Mikey: dead
Baji: ...all of em?
Mikey: yeah, it kinda drove me to insanity
Baji: damn
Baji: why?
Mikey: you killed yourself to save Kazutora
Baji: what was the context
Mikey: long story
Baji: there wasn't any other way?
Mikey: you're kinda pissing me off cause that's what i was wondering, actually
Baji: damn
Kazutora: thanks man. appreciate it🙏
Kazutora: i'll slobber on your meat later, as a proper thank you
Baji: i'd appreciate that. thanks homie🙌
Koko: what about me?
Baji: you wanna slobber on my meat? i mean i won't stop you. as long as i can call you kitten.
Koko: ...i was talking about me in alternate universe's😐
Takemitchy: i don't think we should go there guys. there's too many timelines, and not everything was exactly the same. and also in general it was a really traumatizing experience for me and i kind of want to end my life every time i think about it
Hanma: womp womp. what about me???
Mikey: murderer
Hanma: YESSSSS 😭😭😭😭😭
Hanma: THANK GOD, I KNEW IF I COULDN'T DO IT HERE, MULTIVERSE ME WOULD HAVE LIVED THE DREAM
Hanma: are me and Tetta-san together in every universe
Mikey: surprisingly, yes
Hanma: and he denies we're soulmates😔
Kisaki: i will not hesitate to get another restraining order
Hanma: a piece of paper won't stand in my way. let's get married
Kisaki: i will call the police
Draken: guys are we really entertaining this?
Mikey: you went to jail in one of the timelines and you were bald LMAO
Draken: sure
Baji: why'd he go to jail?
Mikey: these guys killed Emma and Ken-chin took revenge
Baji: respectable
Mikey: he was given a death sentence
Baji: that's tough fr
Ran: i'm kinda curious
Ran: humour me, what was i like?? was i famous?
Mikey: you were a criminal. killed people
Ran: sounds about right if i'm being honest
Ran: and Haruchiyo and Rindou?
Haruchiyo: leave me out of Takemitchy's psychotic episodes
Haruchiyo: i think you have a hallucination/delusion disorder or something
Mikey: but don't you believe me?
Haruchiyo: ...
Haruchiyo: Mikey, you're also pretty mentally ill
Mikey: says you???
Haruchiyo: i just have substance abuse problems and i'm getting clean so...
Mikey: GUYS I'M TELLING THE TRUTH I SWEAR
Mikey: I'VE BEEN GOING CRAZY KEEPING THIS A SECRET
Draken: when was the last time you slept?
Mikey: ☹️
Baji: guys just play pretend.
Rindou: what about me?
Mikey: same as your brother just uh, less gay and slutty?
Rindou: story of my life
Inupi: you didn't do Koko
Mikey: criminal
Koko: the whole time?
Mikey: yeah
Mikey: Inupi got normal at some point because he and Ken-chin got close and they fixed bikes together and had sex
Inupi: Draken????
Draken: you're really starting to piss me off.
Mikey: Akane died in the fire though like she was BURNT
Takemitchy: uh Mikey-kun...
Mikey: she was a crisp i'm telling you
Mikey: Inupi you had an ugly red scar on your face and no one wanted you
Mikey: Izana i know you're reading this, you were fucking insane dude like you killed Emma for some fucking reason then Kisaki shot you 3 times in the chest and you died while having a really bad mental breakdown. it was a major L on your part
Chifuyu: Mikey why are you leaving out the fact that the common denominator in every single timeline was that you killed every single one of your friends in the most brutal ways possible🤨?
Mikey: no comment
Smiley: how'd he kill me?
Chifuyu: uhhh
Chifuyu: Takemitchy help me out here
Takemitchy: i don't want to talk about it😐
Chifuyu: I REMEMBER
Chifuyu: backshot
Smiley: ...
Smiley: he killed me by giving me backshots..?
Smiley: i would NEVER take it from behind
Smiley: especially from MIKEY
Smiley: small dick having ass
Smiley: my bootyhole is not to be messed with
Smiley: i'm so pissed off right now holy shit
Smiley: how did i even die???? dick so good it killed me?
Smiley: i'm so angry
Angry: and i'm Smiley😂
Baji: 3/10 joke 👎, poor delivery, fell flat
Smiley: i hope you kill yourself, Mikey
Mikey: trust me, i've tried
Chifuyu: ???
Chifuyu: he shot you in the back with a gun?
Chifuyu: what's wrong with you
Smiley: oh my bad i though you meant like, he was taking me doggy style
Smiley: i'm no bottom
Ran: what is happening
Chifuyu: i'm moving on😐
Chifuyu: Hakkai was tied to a chair and burnt to death
Hakkai: wha-
Hakkai: WHAT DID I DO??
Hakkai: jesus 😟
Chifuyu: why am i getting all these memories, i'm freaking out
Hakkai: Mikey please tell me what i did to deserve that ☹️
Mikey: idk Hakkai i was going through a lot
Draken: have you been diagnosed with anything?
Mikey: i don't need a diagnosis bcs i'm fine now, you're all alive and i don't have any murderous intent!!! yippee🤗
Mikey: isn't this great Takemitchy??
Takemitchy: well, yeah no ones dead so that's great
Izana: this is obviously completely fabricated
Izana: are you guys that bored?
Senju: man for all that time traveling you sure are a shit boyfriend😭
Takemitchy: how????
Takemitchy: did Hina say that☹️??
Senju: it's an observation
Senju: you've had way too many coincidental close calls with other woman💀
Draken: yeah you pissed me off when you thought i was gifting you a prostitute. you had a whole ass girlfriend. shame on you
Senju: and you also almost slept with Emma and you "don't remember"
Smiley: Mitchy's low-key funny as hell because what do you mean you stripped yourself and another girl down to your underwear by accident
Baji: wouldn't Takemitchy be a pedophile then?? Emma was 13 dawg🤨
Mikey: he was 14 though😭
Baji: you're gonna ride Takemitchy's dick to defend him from trying to sleep with your 13 year old sister??? crazy
Baji: wasn't be mentally 26🤨?
Baji: bro i'm gonna beat your ass actually
Mikey: hmm
Mikey: you know what Mitchy, why did you do that 🤨?
Smiley: LMFAOO
Mitsuya: why did i come back to Takemitchy facing pedophile allegations, like what's going on right now
Kazutora: is it not enough that he changed the space and time continuum just to be with his girl?
Kazutora: cheating this cheating that, my boy deserves all the pussy he wants
Kazutora: he's been beaten, shot, stabbed AND killed
Kazutora: i personally believe he's the goat
Baji: ?
Chifuyu: goat is an acronym for "greatest of all time", Baji-san
Baji: what's an acronym
Chifuyu: i'll dm
Kazutora: bro you're so fucking stupid😭
Draken: i don't care if he was skinned alive by an orangutan, there's no excuse to cheat on someone
Rindou: i think being skinned alive by an orangutang warrants having more than one girl. idk that's just me tho
Ran: not the point that's being made rn
Rindou: what exactly is the point that's being made
Rindou: is this real. are we being serious.
Rindou: i don't think i get the joke
Haruchiyo: i think we should all stop talking now
Mikey: Mitchy we need to talk a bit
Takemitchy: i told you this was a bad idea
424 notes · View notes
thehighladywrites · 24 days
Text
corrupted cops.
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pairing: police officer cassian x drug dealer reader
summary: you get caught red handed by cassian and try to do whatever it takes to skip out on jail
warnings: 18+, tiny plot like minimal, smut, backshots, seduction, solicitation, illegal activities, drugs mentioned, car sex, riding, cuffs being used wrongly😉
amara’s note: if u see any mistakes or errors no you didn’t and i blame english
next episode! — tba😉
series masterlist
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"10, 20, 30 – are you kidding me? Pay for real or get out if my face," you demand, your hand outstretched, impatience and annoyance evident on your face.
This fool thinks he can score a whole bag for just $30. Not only is your supply top-tier and unmatched, but you also deal in real quality weed. You’re drugs are in demand and are selling quickly on many street corners, earning you hefty profits.
"Can't I pay some other time?" The typical rich, snotty guy with the douchebag hairstyle looks at you as if this is a negotiation, like he can convince you to lower your price for a rich trust fund baby like him. No fucking way.
"Listen dipshit, I'll make you pay double if I have to repeat myself. Then I'll ban you," you warn, narrowing your eyes at him as you slowly retract your arm.
The guy panics, sighs, then pulls out a $100 bill.
"See? You can be good!" you quip, snatching the bill out of his hands.
He mutters something before leaving, driving off in his stupidly loud supercar.
You were so overcharging him but you didn’t care. “Fucking loser.”
You turned around, pulling the massive stack you earned tonight out of your pocket, smiling as you think of what new things to buy for your luxury apartment. You count the money before looking up and freezing.
A man is standing there, dressed in the full nine yards in a police uniform, hands folded over his chest as he looks down at you with furrowed brows.
“Mind telling me what you were doing?”
His gruff voice entrances you for a moment.
It’s in that moment you realize that it’s the voice of the guy from your old class. The loud, popular guy had turned into a police officer. It didn’t shock you, honestly. Cassian was always about honesty and integrity, all about giving back to the community and whatnot.
Then you remember you’re holding a massive stack of money, weed is in your pocket, and he most likely saw you selling. So you smile at him before running.
You bolt, the sound of his heavy footsteps driving you forward.
Panic starts to set in, but you push it down, focusing on your escape. You bite your lip, urging yourself to keep going despite the danger looming around you.
“I’m SO fucked,” you think, looking around for an escape route.
In the dimly lit alley, you spot a door and rush towards it, relief flooding through you. Finally, you think, a way out from this mess. Your hands shake as you fumble with the lock, but no matter how hard you try, the door remains stubbornly shut, making you almost sob in frustration.
Frantic, you search for another escape route, your heart pounding in your chest.
"An alley? How cliche," he remarks, approaching you with a wry grin. The dim light of the alley lamp highlights his handsome face. You didn’t have time to admire him before, since you were running and all, but damn, he looked absolutely delicious.
Dark features, nice hair, a straight nose, and a stubbled jaw. He was wearing a tight short-sleeved officer shirt that hugged his built arms insanely. He had really grown into a fine man compared to the young boy he used to be. You looked him up and down, really taking in his height as he got closer and closer.
"You know there’s no way out of this, so put your hands infront of you and let’s make this easy, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid. Again," he says, his voice firm but with a hint of exasperation.
“Fine.”
You chewed the inside of your mouth, trying to think of a way out of this as he put the cuffs on you, leading you back to his car. Maybe some sweet words and feminine tears would solve it, you thought, hoping for a chance to talk your way out of trouble.
You had never gotten caught before, it was extremely humiliating and you would not stand for it.
"What’s your name, officer?" you ask, your voice tinted with slight seduction, testing if he remembers you. You don’t care what you have to do; you will get out of this.
"You know who I am. Badge number 031210," he answers, eyes on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel.
“Okay, Cassian. I think there has been a huge mistake. You don’t really wanna arrest me,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully, the cuffs jingling as you motion with your hands.
“Yeah? Why do I really not want to arrest you?”
“Because I’m a good person, I really am. So I happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Come on, we can overlook this, just let me go.” you plead, trying to appeal to his sense of leniency from the backseat of his cop car.
He chuckles, lookinh back at you through the mirror. “Can’t do that. Maybe don’t deal drugs next time.”
He sighs looking at you with sympathy that makes your skin crawl. It made you feel ashamed that his old classmate was a lowlife drug dealer.
“What happened, Y/N? I remember how smart you were. Surely, you could have become something big,” he questioned.
You looked away not being able to handle the emotions in his eye. “Things happened Cassian. I’m not explaining them to you,” you try crossing your arms then remember the cuffs and settle for putting them in your lap.
Cassians gaze hardens slightly. “Okay then. I guess you’ll have to explain it all down at the precinct.”
Okay, so you’re screwed, right? Wrong. There’s always a plan cooking in your little head.
You take your cuffed hands in front of you and drag down the zipper of your hoodie, looking down innocently. “Cassian, could you turn on the AC? It’s a little hot in here. And you don’t mind me taking off my hoodie, right?”
Cassian grips the wheel, the leather creaking slightly. “I don’t mind.”
As you slip off your hoodie, you catch his gaze lingering on your exposed skin, a flicker of something in his eyes. The air between you thickens with tension, the heat rising in the confined space of the car.
Thankfully, there’s no barrier between you, so there’s nothing stopping you from getting closer to him.
“Cass, I’m having trouble taking it off, could you help me?” you ask, having shuffled very close to him, talking lowly into his ear. You're directly behind him, knowing the effect your voice had on the man.
You took advandtage of the fact that you were in a red light and got closer, whispering and pleading for him to help you get comfortable. Cassian’s eyes fluttered slight at the way your voice and breath were hitting his ear.
You scanned his body, his composure, cassian was tense, there was no doubt about it––he was more than turned on. “That’s cute.”
That snapped him out of his trance. He straightened up a little. “Do you want me to arrest you for solicitation too?” he mutters, driving to the station.
You start to beg some more, knowing that he’s at his limit. There’s no way he’s gonna be able to keep up the good cop act for long.
You start to place light kisses on his cheek, traveling all the way to his neck. He lets out a groan and tucks his lips between his teeth, struggling to maintain his composure.
“Come play with me, officer. I’ll let you do whatever you want to me,” you add, licking a stripe up his neck. That’s all it takes for him to speed into a abandoned alley and park haphazardly.
The adrenaline makes your heart beat faster and faster, a sick rush going through you.
There was a moment of silence when he pulled you out of the car, his grip firm on your upper arm. You found yourself sitting at the edge of the seat, your feet between his legs, the proximity making your pulse race.
“When will you learn that this isn’t a joke,” he exclaims with irritation.
You tilt your head slightly, looking up at him through dolled lashes, doe-eyed and innocent.
“Maybe I need you to teach me, officer.”
The corner of his lips rise as he squats down infront of you, putting one hand on your thigh.
“Think some dick’s gon’ set you straight, huh?”
You erupt in goosebumps, loving the way his warm hands roamed your body.
“mm’yeah. think that’s exactly what i need.”
“Yeah? Alright then, step out of the vehicle,” he orders, not having an ounce of shame as he oogles your ass on your way out.
He pulls out the keys much to your surprise. But he only releases you so you can take off your hoodie, if anything it makes you more confused when he makes you put your hands behind your back instead of infront of you.
“I need sumthin’ to hold on to, don’t I?” he announces casually, like he isn’t talking about fucking someone he just arrested.
He walks you over to the hood of his car where he bends you over, thankful for the short sundress you were wearing underneath that hoodie.
Cassian puts his leg between yours, kicking your feet apart. He pushes your front against the hood of his car, the cold metall cooling your warm skin down.
“If you behave, i’ll let you go, understand?” he asks.
You almost scoff. Of course you’ll behave, it’s your-get-out-of-jail card. But you don’t say that. “Yes, sir. I understand.”
Cassians hold tightens slightly before he tells you how good of a girl you are as he pulls your panties down to your ankles. His hands move to his heavy belt, the belt thudding on the floor as he clips it off.
His hand lands on your ass with a smack, causing you to inhale sharply while showing him your wet, throbbing cunt. You smile secretly as his cock stretches you until he’s fully inside before jerking himself back out. His fucking rough and hard as his nails dig into the soft skin of your hips.
“Look at that, could just slide right in,” he chuckles lowly.
Your sounds of pleasure slipped from your lips as you tugged the metal cuffs around your wrists that were pinning your hands behind your back.
The way his dick was hitting deep, so deliciously hitting that good spot made your eyes roll back. Who knew a cop could fuck this good?
“—feels too fucking good, Cassian,” you moaned out, body covered in goosebumps.
he was giving you long strokes, pushing all the way in and then sliding all the way out leaving only a bit of his tip in every time
“yeah? some dick settin’ you straight,” he lets out when you squeeze around him, dangerously close to creaming on his cock.
You had to agree— his dick definitely made you act right. You almost started thinking about giving up dealing, maybe settle down and live a happy life. THAT is how good he was fucking you.
Cassian pulled out completely causing you to almost scream in frustration. Just a few more pumps and you would have been deliciously weak in the knees.
“No, no, no— put it back in, please,” you begged with low lidded eyes, god, you could almost cry.
“I’m just taking you into the car. Don’t worry, i’ll be so deep in your guts, you’ll never have to worry about me pulling out,” he whispers into your ear before gently biting your lobe.
Tears rolled down your face as you cried relentlessly out of pleasure. The windows had fogged up, droplets dripping down.
you whimpered, burying your head deeper into the car seat. he showed you no mercy, jackhammering into you as he shoved your face down, holding you down by your neck.
your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he dragged along your walls, ramming into your g-spot. some drool seeped out of the side of your mouth as his fingers dug into your hips.
“You still with me?” he asks, gently grabbing your neck to see if you’re alive. Cassian speeds up again when you barely manage to nod.
your mind became hazy and eyelids heavy, pathetic whimpers and gasps falling from your lips as you felt yourself slipping away.
“Officer, m’gon cum— can i, please?” You brokenly let out. Not only did you take backshots; he also made you ride, ate you out and had you gagging on his dick. You were exhausted and spent.
“You promise to be good? Hm?”
“Yeah, i promise,” you whine with tears im your eyes, toes curling as you tip over the edge.
“Then you can cum, pretty face.”
a low, guttural sound escapes his throat as he finishes, flooding into your pussy and stuffing you full with his cum before pulling out and smirking as it oozes out of you.
you collapse in the backseat, sweaty skin sticking to the dark leather. cassian runs a hand through his hair before putting his pants back on. a cocky smirk graces his lips at the sight of your fucked out, tired body.
“You’re a fucking terrible cop. Fucking someone you’ve arrested is grounds for termination, you know,” you rasp out quietly after a moment of peaceful quiet, smiling when his smirk lessens as he rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. You just better not let me run into you again. I’ll arrest your ass for real, understand?" he warns, his eyes boring into yours.
"I understand. And I’m sure you will, officer," you nod at him with a smile before gathering your belongings and getting ready to leave.
You kiss him one last time, a filthy, tongue-filled, teasing kiss before you open the door, leaving behind a flustered cop.
Of course, you would sell again. And you would do it especially in his patrol route.
Both him and the dick is far too interesting.
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cillianmesoftlyyy · 5 months
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I Can Fix That... | Dr. Jonathan Crane x fem!reader
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Summary| She's the detective assigned to investigate one of Gotham's top villains, Falcone, but as she follows her leads, she uncovers a new suspect: Dr. Jonathan Crane. His charisma and good looks won't stand in the way of justice, or at least that's what she thinks.
Warnings| Mentions of self-harm in the beginning in accordance to the movie (Batman Begins 2005). Not explicitly discussed but implied sexist and misogynistic work environment. Some archaic language when discussing psychiatric hospitals bc I tried to follow the language that the movie used. Violence with needles, drugging someone. Gun is mentioned but not used. Knife is mentioned a lot but never used to inflict pain. Smut, dubious consent, unprotected sex, restraints.
word count: 6757k (long-ass story bc I didn't want to make separate posts)
Song for a Guilty Sadist- Crywank 🎶
Butch 4 Butch- Rio Romeo 🎵
IFHY (feat. Pharrell)- Tyler, The Creator 🎶
Please read warnings before continuing, thanks <3
She had been following him for weeks, stealing into the shadows at every turn as Jonathan Crane walked through Gotham City’s Police Station. She’d been suspicious of him for months and with the men in the police force finally working up the nerve to investigate Gothem’s leading henchman, Falcone, she’d uncovered a theory that pointed simultaneously at the notorious psychiatrist. Of course, the men in her force had refused to believe her, reminding her of Crane’s long history with the department and work to establish Gothem’s Psychiatric Hospital for the Criminally Insane: Arkham Asylum. But the real reason why Crane had never been investigated was because of his status in the department of justice, and it didn’t hurt that the man was charismatic. He knew how to work the system to get what he wanted. 
Jonathan Crane had a reputation of declaring criminals insane after mere minutes of deliberation, especially those who happened to work with or for Falcone. She’d been in charge of carrying out Falcone’s case and taking him to trial as a detective for the prosecution. After being put in jail, Falcone had managed to slash his wrists just enough to draw attention and a little bit of blood. He was immediately flagged for psychiatric evaluation, bringing Jonathan Crane once again into the basement interrogation rooms to administer an interview. When he clamored down the steps onto the basement floor, she was waiting for him by the door into Falcone’s interrogation room.  
“Dr. Crane,” she greeted him with a smile, drawing every ounce of her long lost theater-kid days into play. 
“Miss —,” he remembered her name and shook her hand with a serious glint in his blue eyes, covered by harsh rectangular glasses. His handshake was firm and strong, and he made eye contact that still shook her even after speaking with him so many times before. She didn’t let it show, however, and nodded towards the door. 
“He cut his wrists last night during the changing of the guard but we don’t know how he even got access to the weapon that he used; and I’ve spoken with him numerous time since we processed him and he’s never given me any reason to suspect that he was mentally unstable, but of course, you are the professional. It’s better that he be evaluated anyway-”
“In case anything were to happen,” he finished for me and clenched his jaw. He gave a curt nod of his head and went inside, shutting the door behind him and drawing the blinds on the door closed. She scoffed quietly beneath her breath and clenched her fists. Don’t be fooled by his good looks or superior smile, she told herself, Jonathan Crane was capable of things that she didn’t know of yet. He was not someone to admire, he was someone to distrust. 
After only ten minutes of quiet murmuring, she could hear clear and blood curdling screams through the door. She knocked on the door, “Dr. Crane?” She called through the door but it opened in her face before she could do anything. He stood in the doorway, his dark hair falling into his pale, angular face. 
“He’s definitely what I would classify as mentally unstable,” he chuckled calmly as he side-stepped her and closed the door. He ran a hand through his hair and fixed the glasses perched on his nose. “I can’t treat him here, I’ll need to move him to Arkham.” 
“Are you sure?” She asked, more surprised than anything. He had started to walk down the hallway to the stairs when he turned around, stopping right in front of her face, his breath fanned across her face. 
“Are you questioning my diagnosis, detective?” He smirked, an underlying tone of warning below his wide-lipped smile. His blue eyes were unwavering as he studied her face, she swallowed to steady herself. 
“No, sir. Of course not.” She apologized and crossed her arms across her chest, ducking her head nervously. When she looked back up, his eyebrow was cocked. 
“Do I make you nervous, detective?” He smiled and she could tell he was setting a trap, attempting to make himself more likable, more trusting. As if he could be anything of the sort. She laughed lightly and met his eyes, holding his eye-contact defiantly. 
“No, sir.” She answered and he nodded. 
“Good day, Miss —.” He called with his back turned, walking to the stairs and climbing them quickly. She watched him leave and finally released a sigh of relief. There was something about him that unsettled her, but it was something that also attracted her with a devious strength, ripping factual and independent reasoning from her head. 
She had started following him when one of Falcone’s men had been moved to Arkham two weeks before. She switched her assignment for the day to escort the man to Arkham, getting a chance to see the asylum for herself. It was a large gothic building with a modern facade in the center of Gotham. The attendants at the door led the prisoner (or patient now) through the heavily guarded door into the hospital’s main ward that was closed to visitors. Even police or other officials had to obtain a special license that granted them clearance into the institution. The second time she’d stepped inside, she was following a few yards behind Crane, studying how he actually entered the building. They had a separate entrance for the asylum’s psychiatrists at the side of the building by the alley. She waited a few minutes for Crane to enter the building before she approached the guard stationed at the door and flashed her badge. He’d allowed her in but warned that he’d lose his job if he did it again. The next time she followed him, she would need a new method of entering the building, one that didn’t alert Crane that she was in the building in case he got suspicious. When she entered it was easier to blend in so she followed the maze of hallways until she reached a small hub with arrows guiding attendants to the different wards of the hospital. Dr. Crane’s office was included in the psychiatrist ward (funny they had their own ward). 
The psychiatrists each had their own labs, whether or not they used them was their own business, but she knew for sure that Crane used his but for what, she didn’t know. Walking down the hallway to his office, she peeked inside the wide panel of glass into his lab. He had one assistant who was copying his notes into a binder for Crane but quickly left when Crane shooed him away from the set of beakers and vials of powders he was working with. She flattened herself against the wall and pretended to answer a call on her phone as the assistant passed her in the hallway. She hurried to leave the institute, leaving through the same door she entered, thanking the security guard discreetly. 
This time as she watched Crane climb the stairs, she pulled aside a police officer and explained Falcone’s transfer. The officer nodded and left to initiate the transfer to Arkham, Falcone’s hysterical screams still audible through the thick steel door. Crane tugged at the starched collar of his shirt as he crossed the lobby of the police station, sighing in relief. Falcone had tried to corner him. Him! Falcone may have been powerful but he was stupid and Crane didn’t have patience for stupidity especially from someone who was supposed to be a criminal mastermind. News flash: he wasn’t. Falcone was sloppy and arrogant, he didn’t take his own threats seriously. He’d threatened to tell the police about Crane’s experimental drug concoctions but in reality, he still didn’t know the full extent of what Crane was planning to do to Gotham. 
“You don’t know anything,” Crane said pointedly, tired of Falcone’s attitude. 
“I know that half of the drugs we moved belong to you and the police still don’t know what they are or what they can do.” Falcone scratched his greasy nose. Crane almost laughed. He removed his glasses and sighed, reaching into his open briefcase. 
As soon as the words, “would you like to see my mask,” left his mouth, Falcone was done for. The only thing that had inspired a shred of panic for Crane was hearing the girl’s voice through the steel door, calling his name. He expected her to open the door and see his mask, and while he had an explanation that a normal officer would believe, he knew that she was different. He didn’t trust her but something about her made him laugh. She was good looking and smart but too invested in his work and he didn’t like that. He’d have to keep an eye on the young detective, Miss —. In fact, he’d like to strap her down… hide her away in his asylum and play with her head like he did with his other playthings - - - oops - - - patients. Same thing.
ii 
She pretended that her plan was straightforward, it was the only way that she could convince herself to go through with it. No one else in her department would have had the balls to sneak into the asylum where once you went in, you may not be able to leave, that is- if Dr. Crane diagnosed you accordingly. She left a note on her desk in her office, explaining where she was going and the evidence she had already collected. Photos, “destroyed” medical records, and recent missing shipments from cargo ships including one micro-wave machine meant for warfare. She made copies of everything and hid them away in a special box directed to the only person she really trusted in her department, Sgt. Gordon. Even if someone dumped the notes on her desk, Sgt. Gordon would find the box of evidence, she knew. Falcone had been transferred the day before and was nearing his second night in the institution, now was her time to investigate what he was planning to do to him and why. 
She stashed a small knife at her thigh, having learned that a woman had to carry multiple weapons in this city if she wanted to protect herself, which unfortunately, happened often. She checked her weapon and put it in her holster at the small of her back. She was wearing a gray quarter length top tucked into a black skirt. She pulled on her straight black leather coat and closed the door to her office, locking the door. She knew that Crane would be in his office, he almost never went home, and with Falcone there and at risk to disclose sensitive information, he would be sure to stay close by. 
The sun had already set hours before when she approached Arkham Asylum. Each window was bright with light but it didn’t make the building any more welcoming. She shivered as she approached the side door, seeing a different security guard at the door. He stood when she approached, not recognizing her.  
“Stand down, officer. I’m detective — on police business,” she showed him her badge.
“You’ll have to check in at the front, detective.” The officer sat back down with a nod. 
“My business here is strictly confidential; Dr. Crane said I could enter in this way.” She pointed at the side door and the officer looked nervously at her. He reached for his walkie-talkie. 
“I’m here about Falcone. I am the detective assigned to his case, he was transferred here two days ago. I’m supposed to meet with Dr. Crane about some of the things Falcone has said during his initial treatment. Because of the sensitivity of Falcone’s case in the department, as I’m sure you know, the department has asked that we keep this confidential. No one inside can know that I was here to meet about Falcone. We haven’t told the public yet that he’s been transferred here. Your compliance is necessary for this.” She lied out of her ass but the officer nodded slowly when she finished, his eyes widening at the mention of Falcone’s name. 
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry for delaying you. It’s just business.” 
“I understand completely, thank you officer.” She smiled kindly as the officer scanned her in. Once she was inside she hid her police badge and followed the path she had scouted days before, following the black arrows to the psychiatrist ward (again, funny that they had their own ward- almost as if they were patients themselves). Her black mary janes squeaked quietly as she finally turned onto the hallway where Dr. Crane’s office was located. A row of fluorescent bulbs flickered ominously and she rolled her eyes, silently cursing the asylum for its additional eeriness. His lab was empty and dark and his office was empty though the lights were still on. An assistant passed her, coming from a different lab with a pile of boxes in her arms. 
“Excuse me, do you know where Dr. Crane is right now?” She asked the assistant who shuffled the boxes in her arms to answer. 
“I saw him in the ward with the new transfer patients just before I picked these up, so he’s probably about to start a sit-down with a patient. Do you have an appointment with him?” She asked curiously, knowing it was too late for a business meeting. 
“No, I work in the office and I was going to request a few files to finish a transfer of a patient but it seems that he’s busy. I’ll try tomorrow morning. Thank you!” She smiled and the assistant nodded. 
“Have a nice night,” the assistant hurried off down the corridor into the hub. She wasted no time in checking the door to Crane’s office which was miraculously unlocked. She hurried inside and closed the door, making sure that she left everything as she had found it. The door to the lab was located inside Crane’s office, so she entered the lab through the office. The blinds were closed to the outside so she opened the flashlight on her phone and scanned the dark lab tables for the powders she had seen before. The room smelled heavily of chemicals and cleaning solution and it was hard to breathe normally already because she was nervous. The first table was empty of anything but the second was set up for what looked to be his next round of testing. A box that looked like a closed mouse trap was set up on the table. There was a single switch on the top of the box which she knew better than to turn but she examined it nonetheless, hoping to see what it may contain. A tray of petri dishes full of powder sat beside it. Each was marked with a different series of numbers and letters, denoting their different status, she assumed. She recognized the series on one of the dishes: F7jw009. The number had appeared on the list of drugs recovered from Falcone’s drug transport. It was one that hadn’t yet been tested to see what it was composed of. She didn’t recognize the two other dishes but she assumed the powder and the mousetrap device were used for the same thing.
There was a small bookcase attached to the base of the lab table and she crouched, scanning the spines. The books on the top, free of dust, were on phobias. A bound scientific paper on the chemical structure of fear sat on top of the textbooks. She picked it up and flipped through the pages, noticing strokes of pen and notes on many of the pages. In the centerfold of the paper, she saw a picture of a cartoon scarecrow, one from a halloween decoration. It looked like it had been ripped from a kid’s storybook. She stared at the picture, struggling to place where she had heard about a scarecrow before in the precinct… she flipped farther through the pages and landed on a second photo shoved between the pages. It was a drawing of a mask made of burlap. The mask resembled a scarecrow’s face, she furrowed her eyebrows, more uneasy. Finally, she flipped to the very end where she found a clear note detailing what Crane thought the synopsis of the paper had been: 
Fear can be constructed using a series of complex compounds and put into an admissible form. They have already invented serums that temporarily remove the presence of fear by blocking certain receptors in the brain that receive signals of distress or pain. By doing the very opposite, temporarily numbing the receptors that calm the nervous system when danger has been averted, fight or flight is heightened and the human mind is more susceptible to the suggestion of danger and terror. Fear merely needs to be suggested to elicit a response after the brain is prepped for the reaction. Fear can be weaponized. Building the compounds of fear into a powder, the drug can be administered immediately into the air and receive a simultaneous reaction. Pills? Water? How can we distribute this powder? What is the easiest way to administer fear to the entire population? 
iii 
The distinct click of a door opening and closing shocked her back to attention. She put the bound paper back onto the shelf and switched off the light on her phone. In the dark she scrambled into a hidden alcove inside the lab behind one of the hooded chemical boxes. She was pretty sure that the lab’s closet would be shared with the lab next door but she couldn’t remember which side of the room it was on. Dr. Crane had gone into his office and removed his suit jacket. He was too excited by Falcone’s reaction to his fear serum in powder form and he needed to get a handle on himself. It was nearly midnight when he checked his watch. Most of his colleagues would be gone by now, just the night staff remained to look after the patients. Night was the perfect time to work undisturbed in his lab, especially because his assistant couldn’t know the full extent of his research into the chemical compounds of human fear. He slipped his coat over the back of his desk chair and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. 
He exhaled slowly and removed a stack of papers from his desk, flipping through them as he opened the door into his lab and kicked the door closed with the heel of his shoe. His elbow flicked on the lightswitch and he spread out the papers on the first lab table, seemingly absorbed by the chemical structures his assistant had prepared for him to review. He scribbled a note in red pen on the corner of the document, berating his assistant for his obvious mistake with one of the compound structures. What was this? High school chemistry class? He licked his thumb and turned the page, writing another note in the margin. 
“I know you’re here, Miss —.” He smiled, not looking up from his notes. He tossed the first set of pages further down the table and moved to the next one. “You and your perfume… I can always tell where you’ve been by your scent. I don’t think you’re naive enough to wear perfume in your field, especially when on your little jaunts into other people’s business. So, the lovely smell is from your shampoo, I venture. You use an expensive brand of shampoo because you think that your hair is your best attribute, and I agree, it's one of the best. Your job makes you feel dirty too, doesn’t it? This city makes you feel dirty and so you wash your hair every night with the same sulfate-free shampoo to get the smell of our city out of your system. Your shampoo smells like mint and you like it the best because it makes your head feel cleaner, tingly,” he laughed and moved to the next stack of stapled papers. “And that’s why you chose this job, a detective, because you feel like you’re cleaning up our streets; removing all of the bad blood of Gotham but it’s been a disappointment to say the least. The system is backwards, though you knew that from the beginning, you thought you could fix it. You want things to be right and I don’t blame you, so do I.” 
Dr. Crane finished writing a note on the last paper and capped the pen. He circled the table once before moving to the second table. 
“I’m cleaning the city in my own way, I guess you could say. This city needs a restart button, a way to begin everything again and start fresh. Fear can do that, fear can be controlled and it controls.” 
She could barely breathe, her back was pressed against the wall of his lab. She was scared and she knew that he knew. Fear was his thing, his kink and she anticipated the absolute worst as she waited out her fate, wondering how long it would take for him to find her or if she could manage to escape. 
“This machine can diffuse the compounded form of fear. I’ve used it on most of your suspects, all of them Faclone’s men. I even used it on Falcone himself. Oh, I wish you could have seen his face! The second the powder entered his system he abandoned the arrogant criminal persona, he reverted back to who he was at his very core. He was suddenly controllable and easy to manage. So you see how this could be used to clean up Gotham. It’s a way to seize back control of our city, take it away from the people who run it now; the sycophants and billionaires.” 
Crane pulled a needle from the drawer at his hip and flicked the glass tube. Her chest rose and fell in a state of panic. Dr. Crane leaned against the counter calmly. 
“That’s why you like me. I’m clean. I’m orderly and smart. I’m the opposite of the criminal justice system that reminds you of this dirty city. And, Y/N, that’s why I like you.”
She tensed at his use of her first name. She’d never heard him use it before and it sent a chill down her spine. She reached for her gun. Dr. Crane rounded the corner and stabbed the needle into her neck, pushing the tranquilizer into her bloodstream. She wobbled before slumping back against the wall. She managed to push past him and run for the office door but the drugs worked almost immediately and her legs began to go numb. She couldn’t feel anything below her waist and she worried that he would break her legs running without being able to feel which bones she was using to get away. She collapsed on the floor of the lab and looked up at Dr. Crane who smiled down at her, his hair disheveled. 
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he cooed and crouched at her feet, “I applaud you for your efforts. You may have succeeded had I not recognized the smell of your shampoo. I know you’ve been here before. You’re a smart girl but I won this game, and the victor gets the spoils. That’s how it works, Miss —.” He crawled over her and pulled the needle from her neck. She didn’t even feel it. Her hair that he loved so much was fanned out on the floor, falling in loose curls. He twirled a curl between his fingers and nodded approvingly. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll treat you with the utmost respect. Afterall, you are my colleague, of sorts,” he shrugged and stood up, straddling her. “It’s a pity that you became a detective. You would have done well in this bloodthirsty field because,” he disappeared for a moment and returned with a set of keys which he slipped into his front pocket, “you’re like me.” 
He pulled her up and put one of her arms around his shoulder, supporting the brunt of her weight that way. Though he was small and lanky, he was muscular and strong. He dragged her through the door in his lab that connected to a separate room that she hadn’t even noticed. He flipped the light switch with his elbow and sighed with pleasure when the room was lit up with light. 
“Here it is. This is where the real fun happens, Y/N. This is where I test my new treatments on our most psychotic patients. Falcone will be here soon, perhaps tomorrow once you and I finish our discussion.” The room was smaller than the lab and housed what looked like a mortuary slab. She tried to scream but her mouth was numb. He dragged her to the table and lifted her onto the flat surface. The numerous straps he buckled around her waist, her wrists, and her feet. When she was secured onto his table, he pushed a peddle at his foot which titled the table forward, propping her more upright. 
“Ah, and now I can finally see you,” Dr. Crane smiled and moved her hair so that it was caught behind her back. He straightened her hair against her chest, running his fingers through the strands. He moved a stool in front of the table and sat on it, his legs spread and his arms across against his chest. “Do I make you nervous now, detective?” He smirked and chuckled darkly when she couldn’t respond. “It will wear off soon. It’s one of those doses that act quickly but then wear off just as quickly. I wouldn’t do anything to you while you were in this state. What kind of man would I be if I did that?” 
He watched her for a few minutes, his bright blue eyes trailing up and down her body. She knew what that look meant from men. Her gun was so close and yet she knew she wouldn't be able to reach it even when she regained control over her body. While he waited, he arranged numerous tools and vials around the room, humming softly to himself. She could feel herself starting to get feeling back in her stomach as the blood recirculated from her heart. Her hands and her feet took the longest to twitch awake. She dropped her head from left to right, groaning in the absence of words. Dr. Crane came back and checked her pulse, pinching her wrist and counting the seconds on his watch. 
“Good girl, you’re coming back. Can you speak yet?” He supported her chin with his hand and when she didn’t answer he nodded. “That’s all right. You’re all right.” He soothed her and she couldn’t help but relax as his eyes checked over her. “Now, Miss —, where are your weapons?” He posed the question theoretically and touched her, she flinched beneath his hands. He felt around her waist and inside her jacket. “There aren’t many places to hide it.” He whispered and wrapped his hands around her waist, finding the gun at the small of her back. “Ah, here it is.” He smiled as he took the gun from its holster and tossed it onto a small lab table. “You have something else, don’t you. You’re smart so of course, you have a second weapon.”  He licked his lips, thinking but it didn’t take him long to trail his hands up her thighs, glancing up into her eyes as he did. Her skirt rose as he felt below it and soon, his fingers were on top of the knife’s handle. 
“What do we have here?” He lifted her skirt, showing the knife’s hiding place at the top of her thigh. “This is honestly almost funny so forgive me if I laugh.” He ripped the knife from the holster and she cried out as much as she could, terrified by his quick movement. He let her skirt fall back into place and twirled the knife in his hand, examining the small blade. “You’ve just made my night so much more interesting, Miss —.” He smirked darkly. 
iv 
She finally regained her ability to speak though her words were jumbled and hard to get out around her tongue.
“Use your words, honey.” Dr. Crane frowned frustratedly. 
“Please…” she managed, “don’t… hurt… me.” She pushed the words out and he listened carefully. 
“Oh but it’s so hard to resist when you so willingly came here and with your own weapons. Can you see how this might be hard for me?” He furrowed his brow as he spoke and she couldn’t tell what was sarcasm and what was real. 
“It was nothing personal… I had a job to do.” She whispered weakly and he cocked his head, his lips parted. 
“You know it's funny because Falcone’s men all said the same thing. I know you didn’t work with them… but I can make it look like you did.” He whispered close to her face and her chest clenched with fear. “I can do whatever I want, do you understand? I have the power to say that you checked yourself in and I evaluated you. I found you on the verge of a psychotic breakdown because we all know you were already prone to hysterics. But your office shouldn’t worry because I’ll be your psychiatrist. And so what if you happen to disappear- go missing? No one comes in here, except for you, and that was stupid.” 
“You might die tonight, detective. I’m sorry to say it because you are one of the most attractive women I have met in Gotham and I fear that you have ruined our chances of continuing this to a second date.” He studied the curvature of her clavicle as it dipped above her sternum. Not knowing what else to do, she kissed him. Dr. Crane stiffened as her lips met his. He pulled away, stopping short a few inches from her mouth.
“What are you doing?” He raised his eyebrow. 
“If I’m going to die, I might as well make the most of it,” she shrugged and kissed him again, her head leaning as far forward as she could reach. She hoped that she sounded truthful enough. He pulled away again and stared at her, his forehead creased as he watched her. She panted softly, straining against her restraints. Her cheeks were flushed and her chest had broken out into hives from the stress. Fear made her even more beautiful. Going against his better judgment, he leaned forward into her and kissed her hesitantly. Slowly, he began to kiss her more aggressively, his tongue dragging against the roof of her mouth before he captured her top lip in a deep kiss. Her hands instinctively went to reach for his hair but they snapped back against the table. He broke away, panting, and took a few steps back, resting his back against the wall. 
“I don’t trust you,” he put his hands on his hips, still holding the knife. 
“What can I do, Jonathan?” She tried using his first name and he raised an eyebrow again, “I can’t move, no one can hear me scream, you’re going to kill me… what reason is there left to trust me? So, either kiss me or go ahead and kill me.” She nearly cried, overwhelmed and terrified. Her plan had been to seduce him, to use most men’s fatal flaw against him, but she worried that it wouldn’t work with Dr. Jonathan Crane. In a way, she had planned for this. The evidence was back in her office waiting to be discovered. She hadn’t gotten a chance to take pictures of the lab but maybe depending on how far he went with this, she could get away. But God, even though she was terrified and held on a slab against her will, he was beautiful. He was looking at her with his aquamarine eyes, his black hair gelled and falling around his face. Even his glasses looked perfect on his face. 
“Jonathan…” she started with a shakily voice, “despite why I came today and what you’ve told me about what you want to do to Gotham, right now, more than anything, I want you to come here and kiss me because while I may hate you and you may be the cause of my death, I want you. Give me some comfort if you’re going to take everything away from me.” 
“Freud would have some things to say about you, Y/N.” He pushed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose and studied the edge of the knife. “Your psychology is so interesting,” he flicked his eyes up to her’s and set the knife down on the table. “To study you…” he trailed off as he loosened his tie and ripped it from his neck. He approached her, standing far enough away that she couldn’t reach him with her mouth. She exhaled, waiting. “I almost studied anatomy,” he pushed a hand against her navel, holding her even more in place. 
“Why didn’t you?” She whispered. 
“I loved the human mind too much to abandon it,” he smiled and drew a hand up her thigh. Her muscles spasmed beneath his hand. He leaned in against her ear, “I know you’re scared of me,” he whispered calmly, “and isn’t that incredible? That you can be so afraid of something that you want so much?” His hand pulled down her underwear and it stretched between her open thighs, held apart by the restraints. His hand went further still, gently tracing the folds of her labia. She knew that she was wet and it embarrassed her, though she knew it helped confirm her story that she wanted him, he didn’t seem to care either way. His thumb rubbed her clit as he slowly inserted his middle finger into her, pushing past the initial resistance. She always hated fingering because it didn’t feel like how people pretended it did. That being said, she sighed as he gently inserted a second finger and pulled against the top of her cunt, fingering her slowly. 
“The body holds fear because our bodies hold memories,” he explained as he pressed her clit harder. “I can find what really scares you and I can fix it.” 
“I’m scared of you,” she whispered, her breath escaping in a sharp pant. 
“I can fix that.” 
He pulled his fingers out of her and held her neck still against the table as he kissed her. The sense of urgency to fight and escape melted into an afterthought when the back of his hand slid slowly down one side of her neck, making the tendons flex. He held her neck still as he kissed down to her collarbones, licking their shelves and tracing the bone with his tongue. His free hand groped her breast over her tight shirt and then surrounded her waist. She started shifting her hips back and forth, wishing that she had something between them to relieve the pressure she felt. He smiled against her skin and clicked his tongue, pulling away from her. He pressed the pedal again with his foot and the table reclined once again as it had been. He climbed onto the table and sat above her on his knees, looking down at her as she panted. 
“Look at me,” he told her and made sure that her eyes met his. “I have no plans to kill you tonight and I know this act is solely for the benefit of your own survival. But knowing that I will not kill you, would you like to change your mind?” He put both hands around her waist, showing the pale flesh of his forearms. She tried to weigh her options, she tried to think clearly but it all felt like a dream. It didn’t feel real enough to have consequences, so she shook her head and licked her lips quickly.
“No, keep going.” She whispered, “please.” Dr. Crane chuckled lightly and trailed his fingers down to her ankles. 
“In that case, would you like to see my mask?” He smiled darkly, teasing her. 
“No, I want to see your face.” She answered calmly and he nodded. 
“Fine.” He removed the restraints around her ankles. He took the knife from the table and cut away her underwear with one strong swipe of the blade. She gasped and he smirked, “I’m a doctor, remember? I know how to use a knife, detective.” 
He put the knife aside and pulled her knees up, sitting between them. He unbuckled his pants and withdrew his erection, glistening with precum. He guided himself into her with his hand, his eyes never leaving her face. She gasped again as he entered her. He rocked his hips slowly back and forth and groaned, watching her mouth open in a silent moan. She raised her knees higher, closer to her chest, giving him a better angle at which to fuck her. His hands pressed against her stomach and his thrusts became faster as his body began to learn hers. 
“You’re getting wetter,” he observed with a sly smile, “I must be doing something right.” He teased her as he started to rub her clit with his thumb, the rest of his hand pressed against her uterus. She couldn’t even speak. It had been months since she’d last had sex and even then, it wasn’t good sex. “I’m going to go harder but you can take it,” he told her matter of factly and placed either hand by her hips on the table. Leaning forward he shifted his hips slowly but harder, going deeper without much care for how her body adapted to the thrusts. “There you go,” he grunted as his hips bucked rhythmically into hers. She cried out, her body sliding up and down against the table, hot with her perspiration. Holding onto the top of the table, he moved farther up, pushing more inside of her, and started thrusting fast. He was suddenly in so deep and only backing away a few inches before snapping back in. Her hips bounced off of his and she gripped the excess material around her wrists to help her stay stationary. 
“Slow… God, please! Slow down… its so much, fuck.” She whimpered and smiled down at her face, flushed and angry with red. He slowed his hips, squeezing his glutes together whenever he thrusted inside. He leaned down and kissed her slowly, still rocking in and out of her. Her body shuttered from the high and started to build a more even climax. She hummed against his lips, her voicing getting higher as she started to orgasm. 
“And here comes the orgasm,” Jonathan smiled and sped up slightly, leaving hickies up and down her neck. She orgasmed with a shuttering cry that she couldn’t cover with her hand, but he didn’t let her finish there. “Fuck, you got so tight again.” He groaned as she panted, her system overwhelmed with waves of pleasure and exertion. She started to tighten further around him as her thighs squeezed his hips. Her breath left her lungs in short pants and she moaned beneath him like a pitiful creature. “Are you cumming again?” He laughed and stroked her cheek. She nodded weakly and he kissed her again briefly. 
“Its so tight, fuck. I won’t last much longer like this.” He took her hips in his hands and started a steady rhythm, pulling her hips onto his cock and thrusting at the same time. She came around him and he groaned animalistically, his thrusts becoming more sporadic and needy. He watched her breasts bounce inside her shirt and how he slid in and out of her, her cum collecting at the base of his shaft. Finishing with fast, desperate movements, he moaned loudly. She felt him finish inside her and it felt almost better than if she had finished herself. He pulled down her bottom lip with his thumb and admired her fucked-out face. Her pupils were shot and she shook slightly from the high. Finally, he pulled out and stuffed himself back into his pants. He sighed as he straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his hair. He took the gun and the knife and stuffed them both into a drawer and locked it with a set of keys from his pocket. They stared at each other for a while until Jonathan broke the silence, clearing his throat. 
“You’re coming home with me tonight, Miss —. We’ll decide what to do with you later.” 
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kittykattropicanna · 6 months
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would you please be able to go into more detail about your prison penpal!simon? why is reader doing it, how did they choose simon (if they had a choice at all), the sorts of letters they exchange? and if they’re any sort of smutty bits for them too? your mechanic au has me absolutely feral beyond words so seeing this made me so excited.
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Omg you’re my first asked AHHHHHH I want to scream thank you so much!!!!! 
Absolutely I can go into detail about PrisonPenPal!Simon :3  I can't get out of my mind how deprived he is argh!!! >:( all this time alone, and now that you're here writing him pretty little letters, he can't imagine life without you :3
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TW: mentions of murder, jail, corruption kink, breading kink, masterbation (Reader & Simon), public masterbation (kinda), smut, not sub!simon but he does cum in his pants, ahhh you're both just so obsessed with each other :3
PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist
Regular masterlist
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I’ll give you a little back story to why Si actually ended up in jail…
I feel like he retied, left SAS and tried to integrate back into civilian life but failed miserably. He started going out to bars and drinking pretty heavily. The alcohol made him angry, he never was outwardly violent, but everyone could tell he was just a very dark, tortured guy that sat in the back of the bar every night and drank himself stupid. It was like an unwritten rule that nobody bothered him. His a massive guy who’s ex military, if you had half a brain you would leave him alone. 
One night he was leaving the pub and this stupid, stupid 18 year old kid thought it would be funny to try square up to him and impress his friends. 
It didn’t matter how many times they told him to quit it and leave Simon alone, he still trudged up to him with his head held high and chest puffed.  
This kid came up behind Si and punched him in that back of the head. It wasn’t a good punch by any means but it was more then enough to drive Simons drunk brain into utter rage. 
He turned around and punched this kid straight in the head. He went down like a stack of bricks, head making direct impact with the concrete floor, killing him instantly. 
The kid was only 18, he had so much life left to live…..
Of course Si felt absolutely disgusted in himself, he couldn’t believe what he had done. Killed a poor kid who made a stupid decision and ultimately ended his life as well. 
He handed himself over the the police without hesitation. He went quietly and respectfully, cooperated with the police throughout the whole trial, never redirecting blame onto the kid or made it harder then it needed to be. 
He pled guilty for involuntary manslaughter and assault. Gaz, Johnny and Price all pitched in to get him the best defence lawyer humanly possible……ultimately, it worked. Even though the general public was outraged at his light sentence. 
Simons lawyer claimed the punch was in self defence. Someone attacking him from behind also trigged his PTSD resulting in Simon not being able to control his actions in that moment. 
These defences along with him serving in the military for 15+ years and cooperating with the authorities got him 8 years in prison, his sentence was quickly reduced to 4 because of his good behaviour. 
It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but it was the best case scenario with the cards he was dealt. 
But lets fast forward to the present….. How did you decide to actually start writing to an inmate? How did you even find out about it?
I have this really cute idea that maybe you were walking through the shopping centre and there was one of those pop up markets that sit in the middle of everything, you know, with the really annoying people that flag you down and you have to awkwardly not make eye contact and walk past them while they’re try and sell you stuff?
Yeah, one of them. This specific stand kinda caught your eye though, It was called “Write An Inmate”
You talked to the guy at the stand about what exactly “Write An Inmate” was and he explained that he was part of the program when he was locked up, how much it helps inmates get through their sentence, helps connect them to the outside world and genuinely just keeps them hopeful. 
First off you were a little hesitant…..speaking to someone who’s in jail because they broke the law sounded a little scary…. 
But hell, its a start of a new year and taking some time out of your day every once in a while to write a short letter to help keep someones hopes up is the least you can do. 
Besides! One of your childhood best friends big brothers went to jail and he wasn’t a bad guy! One of your new years resolutions was to spread more kindness and this is just a perfect way to do so!
Once you got home, you look up the website on the brochure that was given to you and quickly start scrolling through inmates.
They all had profiles with information about them. You couldn’t see what they were in for, but you could see other information like their name, age, date they signed up for the program, time served/time until they get out, amount of letters they have received, a short description of who they are/what they like and a few photos showcasing what they look like. 
You scrolled through a few but they all seemed to have gotten hundreds of letters, you wanted to write someone who wasn’t getting flooded every week with letters, maybe send a letter to someone who could use a pick me up. 
Clicking on the last page you scrolled to the very bottom and click on the last inmate before it even had time to load. 
Once the page opened the name “Simon Riley” appeared on your screen
After looking through his profile a wave of sadness rolled over you 
Name: Simon Riley, most people call me Ghost  Age: 36 Joined: December 26th, 2021 Letters Received: 0 Time served: 3 and a half years  Sentence ends: Year and a half  Description: ex military. I like dogs, big ones not small ones, the outdoors, playing cards and motorcycles. The first thing I want to do when I get out is to eat a steak. 
Attached was three photos. I won’t even lie, they’re definitely dad selfies from different angles HAHAHA they’re such grainy photos too, like they’ve been taken on a 10 year old android. 
Two of the selfies are him with a black balaclava on and the last one was of his face without anything covering it, but again it so grainy you can’t really make his facial features out. 
Simon had joined the program two years ago and hadn't received one letter. You felt horrible, he joined the day after Christmas probably hoping to receive something, anything, but not one person took the time to write him….. 
So obviously Simon was going to be your prisoner pen pal, how could he not be…..
I think the letters start off pretty innocently tbh, you don’t start writing to Simon with the intention of starting any sort of sexual or romantic relationship, it truly is out of the goodness of you’re heart, you sweet girl :(
Simon had totally forgotten about the program honestly, imagine his shock when the prison guard threw him a letter. 
When he frowned and asked who its from the guard just shrugged and said “write an inmate program” and walked off completely unfazed. 
But again, starts out super innocent, things like “I saw that you like big dogs, what’s your favourite breed?” and “what’s your favourite card game? I know how to play blackjack but I’m not very good haha”
I’d like to think you don’t even disclose your gender or name at the start. Keeping everything under lock and key. 
Simon also answers back with pure intentions at first, he has an inkling you may be a women because the hand writing is wayyy to pretty and delicate to come from a man. 
But again! He doesn’t get his hopes up, it could be an old granny for all he knows, but he can’t shake the idea that maybeeeee it could be someone a little more his type, ya know ;)
After a couple weeks of writing letters back and forth you feel like you’re getting to know him a little better. He asks you to call him Simon, not Ghost and he starts writing the cheesiest dad jokes at the bottom of every letter. 
“Two fish are in a tank, one turns to the other and asks “do you know how to drive this thing?” a little army humour for ya’ :)”
His so charming in such a rough and rugged sort of way you know? It sounds silly to say, I mean, you’ve never met him! But the way his handwriting is complete chicken scratch and how he adds little “:)” “:(“ and “>:)” makes you giggle! 
You end up telling him your name and how old you are, I mean, its only fair! You know his name! You definitely didn’t tell him because you wanted to get his mind racing, get him thinking about all the different possibilities, make him fantasize…
Its fair to say you have a little crush on him :( ahhhh its so humiliating! A city girl like you, good job, successful family and a bright future laying in bed every night fucking your pussy with a brand new dildo you bought just so you could imagine Simon, a felon, fucking your little cunt :( 
When Simon sent his letter that week asking for a photo of you, your little crush just got bigger :(
“Its only fair don’t ya’ think? You know what I look like, why don’t ya’ return the favour sweetpea ;)” 
And of course you did!! He asked so politely! 
Putting on your pushup bra, doing your makeup and styling your hair all for him:(((
You get so frustrated because you don’t want to look like you’re trying too hard for him, argh! Its all so embarrassing!! Your such a needy girl >:(
You make sure to push up your tits, your bra helping them spill out over your cute little shirt and giving him a good view of your gorgeous body. 
After an hour of taking photos you finally get the shot you were looking for 
Eyes sparkling, cute little smile on your lips, light hitting your face just right, lacy bra slightly peaking out the top of your shirt just enough that it looks like an accident, beautiful tits sitting right in frame so he can get a good look and the slight curve of your waist visible. 
Its perfect, it look so effortless…..in your eyes at least
When Si received your letter, his cock got hard the second he saw your picture :((((
Since his been locked up he hasn’t been able to jerk off properly >:( 
His balls are so heavy as is, and now he has a photo of you 
He could basically cum in his pants at the thought of holding your waist as you ride him. Using his big callused hands to fuck your pretty pussy onto his aching cock >>:((((((
You’re so put together! nice clothes, from the look of the background, nice apartment, clean bedroom. Just the thought of him corrupting you, fucking his baby into you, making you move into a shitty little apartment while he works and you look after his chubby baby makes his dick start to twitch :3
Before he can stop himself, he cums all in his pants :(
He hasn’t cum properly in years! yet a simple photo of you did it for him in seconds!!! You’re such a nasty minx, you know exactly what you’re doing you dirty girl >>:(
That night he lays under the covers, his cell mate fast asleep on the other side of the room as he slowly pumps his cock to the photo of you.
Eyes closed and head thrown back against the thin pillow, he bites his lip so he doesn’t make any noise. 
You see, playboy magazines get passed around all the time, they’re not hard to find if you know the right people, but it just doesn’t do it for Si!!
Of course they’re beautiful women, there’s no doubt about it, but everything so photoshopped :(
Si likes his women natural. No skin smoothing filters or enhancements from photoshop, he likes his women real 
His so deprived that he cums in record time, his hot load shooting all over your face, the once clean photo now sticky and stained….
He wished he had it in him to be embarrassed, but he just can’t! God, he needs to hear your voice, your picture just isn’t enough anymore….
In his next letter he asks if he could use his monthly call to speak to you……Johnnys just gonna have to wait, they can talk football another time >:(
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Aghhhh, PrisonPenPal!Simon is so fucking cocky it hurtssss, PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)
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