Because some trick ass bitch decided to make a “tier list” when in actuality it was just a hate call out im gonna make my own the way it was supposed to be done
S- tier fanfics
ALL OF THEM IDGAF THEY’RE ALL GOOD EVEN IF I DON’T READ THEM
F- tier
THE TRICK ASS WHO MADE THE “TIER LIST” IN THE FIRST PLACE
Also fanfic authors that have VERY special place in my heart @l0s3rd0wnt0wn @stpatriziaofconstantinople
GOING TO THE SAME SCHOOL WITH YOUR BROTHERS SUCKS PART 3
Tim and Duke's part-time is the sweet yandere, while Duke is more playful. Please don't ignore them; they'll go feral. <=prev
If anyone thinks Jason and Dick are bad, they clearly haven’t met Tim and Duke. They’re the popular juniors whose color is yellow, and for some reason, they’re always hanging out with their sophomore sister. No one really knows why. Most juniors try to look older and more sophisticated, like upperclassmen but Tim and Duke? They’re nothing like that.
Tim might try to act sophisticated and smart, but he’s just as mischievous as Duke. And Duke, with his endless charisma and charm, can still be a total brat and an absolute menace. Their favorite pastime? Bothering everyone around them especially you.
Let’s separate them for a bit.
Tim is popular in his own right, which is surprising considering how much of a nerd he is. He likes almost all the same things as you, yet somehow, he’s super popular at school. He’s a massive geek who somehow flips everything upside down.
How is he friends with the jocks without getting stuffed in a locker for not giving away his notes? How does he flirt with the cheerleaders without them saying “ew” at him? Sure, he’s cute, but come on he’s still a geek. They should be treating him the same way they treat you. But, apparently, being a Drake and a Wayne can take you far.
Duke, on the other hand, is a natural charmer. Unlike Dick, he’s more friendship-oriented. He hangs out with literally everyone at school even the weird kids and somehow, his reputation stays spotless. He just has that aura that makes everyone want to be around him. It’s completely unfair.
So, of course, when he walks into your classroom clinging to you, everyone thinks you’re the crazy one for wanting him gone. He’s like the baby who can do no wrong, even though he’s capable of plenty. That one time you were caught yelling at him in the hallway? You were practically publicly executed by his so-called friends. But the truth is, Duke is only close with a few people and those few include Tim. The two of them are like little evil twins who got separated at birth.
The thing about these two little devils is that they don’t share. Well, they share with each other but not with their friends or anyone else in their circle. And what don’t they share? That would be you. Your attention, of course. At home, they hog you constantly, much to the dismay of Jason, Dick, and Damian. Their main excuse? “We’re her favorite brothers.” Big, fat lies across the board.
Now, just imagine how they’d react if someone in their circle had a crush on you. They’d completely sabotage it.
“Duke, could you pass this note along to [Name]? I heard you guys are in the same chem class.”
Duke’s blood would already be boiling at the sight of this guy. The audacity of him trying to pick up his little sister completely uncalled for.
“No worries, man. Big dog’s got you. I’ll make sure the little Rottweiler knows.”
He’s sneaky with it, unlike Tim, who would rip the note to shreds right in front of their faces. Duke would instead change up the love letter to say something nasty or misleading, or make you meet the sender at the wrong location. You’d be heartbroken, thinking it was all just a prank. That’s when Duke would swoop in to “save” you.
“Come on, pups. You know these men be trifling. Just stick with your bro, yeah? I’m the only guy you need in the first place.”
Tim, on the other hand, is far more evil. If someone had the audacity to ask him to pass a note along, he’d show it to you, sure but then he’d spread nasty rumors about the guy.
“I mean, yeah, he’s fine, I suppose. But you know his father’s in debt, right? Probably only dating you because he thinks you can help him out. This is one of the most prestigious schools in Gotham, after all.”
He’d also spout lies to anyone who tried to get close to you.
“No way, dude. She’s into taller guys—you’re totally not her type.”
Or, “Really? You think you can get her attention? She doesn’t like shallow people.”
Sure, your love life might be a complete sham but hey, your big brothers are always there to pick you up.
(This is purely self indulgence because I've been watching so much slice of life romance!!!! And everyone, read Mysterious Girlfriend X NOOOW!!!) Prev
Studying in an empty club room with Tim
The month of May is exam month for Gotham Prep students, when it comes down to somebody like Tim, who never studied a day in his life but somehow still gets the highest scores, and someone like you, who thinks hard work and determination are enough (you get second place behind him). Your name is second on the leaderboard, and his is the very first. He hardly even studies for the state test. It's like God himself is playing a sick joke on you.
Even though Tim doesn't really need to study, he doesn't mind spending the whole afternoon watching you. Seeing his pretty girl look all smart and studious, highlighting parts of your textbook, underlining important facts maybe this is a weird fetish, but he thinks smart girls turn him on. But then again, what doesn't turn this man on?
While reading one of your history textbooks, your eyes start to fuzz out. You rub your eyes gently with the palms of your hands as you stare down at the paper, but the words still seem fuzzy to you.
"Ugh, so annoying!" you huff.
Like this happens to you all the time, doesn't it? Sadly rummaging through your backpack, pulling out a small case that you gently open. A pair of rectangular glasses sit before you neat black frames that you place gently against your face. Looking down at the textbook, you see everything much clearer.
"Wait, hold on. Since when do you have glasses?" Tim hums, his head perking up from his own textbook.
"Oh, these old things?" you reply, surprisingly soft, pointing at the frames.
"Old things? You've had them for that long and you never told me?" You can practically hear the pout forming in his voice and slightly on his face.
"Yeah, and how could I bring that up in conversation? 'Oh, by the way, I wear glasses.' It's just a trivial thing. I mean, almost everyone needs them."
"I don't."
You grumble a little at his sly little remark. Of course not only does he have perfect grades, he has perfect eyes to match. What about him isn't perfect?
"So, like, are you blind? How many fingers am I holding up?" At least four fingers are shoved right up against your face.
"I have trouble seeing. Doesn't mean I'm dense. Jeez." You roll your eyes off to the side, taking a small deep breath. "I only wear them because sometimes my eyes get a little fuzzy."
Then a part of you feels some type of anxiety that random thing you get when it feels like something you're doing just doesn't seem like you. You hate that feeling.
"I could take them off if you want," you mutter softly under your breath, as if that's something he wants.
"No way! Girls with glasses are a total turn-on!" You chuck a chunky textbook at him.
"God forbid a man speaks the truth in this day and age." He lets out a low hiss, rubbing his forehead. The smile never leaves him.
"Absolutely not! Saying that something is a turn-on isn't speaking the truth it's speaking a whole bunch of perverted nonsense!" you grunt, your eyebrows slightly twitching at his previous comments.
"But come on, it's scientifically proven! Super smart and sexy girls who wear glasses are the world's future, and my girlfriend just so happens to be one of those girls!" He rants on and on about why you should wear your glasses more, especially for him.
You want to throw another book at him, but sadly, it would be school vandalism of the book. But your face does heat up at his words, even just a little.
"I mean, if you like it that much, I wouldn't mind wearing them in front of you..."
Tim watches your face form into a pout, your glasses adding an extra layer of cuteness to it.
"You're the cutest girl in the world, [Name]!"
You see him about to jump right over his desk, and both your hands come to push his face back. "Get off of me, you perv!"
But then again, who can blame him? His junior is the cutest girl ever.
GOING TO THE SAME SCHOOL WITH YOUR BROTHERS SUCKS PART 2
Jason's part yay Jay is that mean nonchalant yandere bro he may look like he don't care but god damn if it ain't eating him alive (Platonic yan!batboys x wb!reader) <=prev
Jason is also an upperclassman. Instead of wearing blue, he prefers to wear red, and honestly, everything he wears is red from his casual clothes to his jersey to even his track suit. It's like people who like purple, but the red version.
He's a star player of the football team, which isn't surprising since he's literally built like a fridge once a pound of muscle. You think, "I wonder if he came out all muscly when he was a baby?" Would've made sense. You heard from your other brothers he used to live on the streets the slums, of course. Made sense why he'd need all that muscle. You know better than to underestimate downtown Gotham.
But the crazy thing is, even from a slummy background, he doesn't get bullied like other Wayne kids. It's like everyone ignores the fact that he used to grow up in Crime Alley. They immediately adopted him into the jocks. Maybe just because of his superior body and mind.
Speaking of mind, he reads a lot. Like, a lot a lot. And not the comic books or manga that you do. No, he reads like actual literature (not to say that those books aren't literature), but you'd never expect him to be seen under a tree reading Pride and Prejudice or Catcher in the Rye. Seriously, what is with that guy?
It's enough to make him popular with the girls, though. "He's so sweet and sensitive! He reads romance novels!" your friend Trish gushes over him. She's one of the many girls in your class who have a crush on him. But don't get me wrong the upperclassmen girls love him to death, always volunteering for practice even though they don't know a single thing about American football. And they always wince and yelp in shock when Jason tackles somebody down to the dirt, but that doesn't stop their fawning.
Especially with the boys guys want to be him or date him, or both. It's really weird. Maybe he's just their gay awakening. You wouldn't really call Jason a brute, but the dude does look like he lets off some steam every time he shoves a guy right into the mud. You know, a lot of people have their therapy like music or, I don't know, art. Your bro, on the other hand, loves to tackle people for an oval-shaped ball. Whatever lets that steam off, of course.
But you're also hated by both the jocks and the cheerleaders because, well, you're the closest to him. It's not like he hardly talks to you at home, but at school it's just ughh. He follows you around like some shadow, and he thinks he's being discreet when he's not. The guy's six-foot-five, hiding behind a school pillar half his size. Yeah, you're not being discreet, buddy.
He often drives you to the library, asking you to read with him. Of course you would, if he wouldn't criticize all your selection of books. "Dork Diaries isn't literature," he rolls his eyes as he watches you pick out the entire Dork Diaries catalog.
"Yes it is! It's not literature? Full-fledged novel! Come on, 400 pages worth of stuff!" He'll never believe you.
But since he drags you along to many of his sanctuaries, it means many of the girls that stalk him seriously hate your guts. Thank you, hanging out with a popular jock not very set in stone. You remember the first time you got glares from some of your classmates when they saw his motorcycle. Flashy does not mean cool. Flashy means your safety is under lock.
Oh, and just because he's a jock doesn't mean that the boys avoid you. They actively try to get near you, only because they can get in good graces with Jason and possibly stop getting benched all the time. You've been pulled into many relationship ploys just so a dude can get close to him. Might as well call your love life a sham. But it almost never works, because every time those guys try, they're benched for the playing season next summer or fall.
You remember one time he invited you to one of his practices, which was totally stupid in your eyes. I mean, you know absolutely nothing about American football, and you refuse to learn. "Why would I want to see sweaty big men throw a ball around? That's what yaoi is for," you complained about it to Trish, who of course didn't mind because Jason. And of course you had to comply with your best friend. You don't know what that poor girl sees in him.
So there you are on the bleachers with Trish as you watch them tackle thick dummies and throw spiral balls. "Is this what you wanted me to come watch? A bunch of grunting and groaning?" you sigh, exasperated. You could have spent the rest of your day being losers with your other friends in your club room, but instead you are outside in the sun watching boys tackle each other for a ball.
Trish, on the other hand, was being his number one cheerleader. "Oh, come on, it's not that bad. At least he wanted to spend some time with you," she said in that sweet tone she always says things in. Honestly, every time she speaks, it's like the whole world seems just a little bit better.
You lay back against the bleacher behind you. "Yeah, yeah, sure. Get all your eye candy you can get before we dip."
Amidst the conversation, a football comes careening towards you guys, slamming in the middle of you, getting wedged between the two seats of the bleachers you and Trish were sitting against. Trish squealed in fear, and you, on the other hand, were pissed the fuck off. This was obviously done on purpose. Not very surprised, you saw a group of boys laughing and chuckling together in a circle.
"Which one of you assholes threw that ball?" you yelled at the top of your lungs across the bleachers. None of them answered you, too busy laughing their heads off at the sight. You were so pissed. You glare at Jason, hoping that he would do something, be the big brother that he said he was. But no, he just stands there watching.
You feel more heat and anger bubble within you as you grab both you and Trish's bags to leave. "You know what? I'm out of here. Come on, Trish. Football sucks anyways."
"Agreed," she huffs, nodding her little head.
But Jason had a devious plan. The next day, he apologized for his team's misbehavior to you, and he probably apologized to Trish, who just giggled and said it was no biggie. But the question he asked you was pretty weird. "[Name], which one do you prefer broken bones or broken hands?"
You stared at him, confused and slightly concerned, but you thought nothing of it. "Well, a broken leg must suck, but I mean, if I broke my dominant hand, it would suck a little bit more. I mean, which one is more useful to the person?"
Jason nodded his head. He took that information to heart. Next thing you know, those five boys from the circle either have their dominant arm broken, or the fastest runners on the team had broken legs.
"Thank you, God, for retribution!" Trish giggles to you in your club room. But you can't stop thinking about Jason's words. Broken arms or broken legs. No more sports animes for you.
Platonic batboys x wb!reader a lil yandere who knows this is Dicks chapter
Going to school with your brothers genuinely sucks completely and utterly annoying and the worst part is they’re popular. Unlike you, of course. You’re the nerdy girl who sits in the back of the class, staring out the window while listening to nightcore, thinking you’re the coolest person in the world that you’re the main character and the whole world revolves around you. It doesn’t. You’re actually a lame weirdo who has zero to no friends and bitches. But your bros, on the other hand, all they have to do is breathe and everybody’s falling over them.
But hey, how come you’re not as popular as your brothers? Well, let’s get one thing straight they’re not really your brothers. They’re adoptive. But Bruce always says, “Families don’t gotta match.” What Facebook mom quote did he steal to come up with that one?
Really, the only reason people don’t think you guys are related is because you don’t share the same last name aka Wayne. When you were first adopted into the family, you begged Bruce up and down not to take away your last name, the only connection you had to your mother. Respecting your choices surprisingly and your words, he let you keep it. But he did put the Wayne at the end of your last name, just to show you who you belong to (creepy).
Besides the point, that’s the only way people don’t know that you and your brothers coexist under the same roof, in the same household but no one smart enough to put two and two together. You’d think you would possibly get peace from them at school, but little do you know, they all enrolled in Gotham Prep and they’re all with you. How lovely.
Gotham Prep is basically split up into three categories: the upperclassmen wear blue or red (that’s Jason and Dick), the junior classmen wear yellow (that’s Tim and Duke), and the lowerclassmen wear green and that’s you and Damian.
Managing school with all your brothers? Trick question you don’t. For someone like you, Dick thinks that you and he are the best of buds, great friends, even though you literally have nothing in common with that acrobatic dimwit. He’s mainly popular with girls; his charismatic smile and blue eyes shine like the Gotham sun. While others sweat, his tan skin glistens like a Greek statue. All the girls love him, which means all the girls hate you because you’re the closest to him. Seriously, you don’t know how many death threats you’ve gotten in your locker just because he sat next to you at lunch once.
Since he’s an upperclassman, it means he has way too much free time. He literally has five classes while you have eight, which means for the rest of the school day he can do whatever he wants no repercussions involved. Most would go home and, I don’t know, play video games. He would rather walk you to each and every one of your classes. Doesn’t matter if one of them is on the very top floor he’ll yap your ear off while doing it too.
“And can you believe it? Three girls already confessed to me today! It’s honestly crazy, but then again, when you have such great looks as me, you’re bound to have people flocking to you.”
He can’t stop bragging and bragging and bragging about his love life. You’d think he would give these girls the time of day, but he never does. It’s kind of sad, but hey, they knew what they were getting into that’s the adoptive son of a billionaire playboy.
“Look, this girl made me homemade chocolates. I don’t really want them I’m watching my figure but I’ll be a nice big bro and hand them to you.”
How kind of him to give you his hand-me-down chocolates. Part of you wants to berate him, saying that a girl worked really hard making those for him, but that cocky bastard doesn’t care. You might as well take the treats.
One day, after walking you to your locker, you go to grab one of your books when, completely out of nowhere—PRICK!
“Shit! Ow!” you hiss in pain as you put your bleeding index finger into your mouth. Turns out some of the popular girls found your locker and thought it would be funny to leave some tacks near your books. Amazing, you think, rolling your eyes, not even noticing the cold expression on Dick’s face. His bright blue eyes, once sparkling with mischief and joy, turned dim and gray.
You look up at your locker, seeing a whole bunch of nasty things written on it in marker “whore,” “slut,” and even more “sophisticated” words like “bitch.” Baby’s first swear word, you think, unbothered.
Dick, on the other hand, is practically fuming. If he were a kettle, steam would be puffing right out of his ears.
“I swear, these girls get worse and worse with age. I would compare them to fine wine, but cheese would be way more appropriate.”
You look at him, but his eyes are dark with hate. He knows exactly which girls did this the ones who would have the guts to pull it off.
“Don’t get too mad. At least they defiled my locker this time. The other time it was my desk. Took me hours to get that marker smudged off,” you laugh it off, but your brother is a raging storm, and nothing could possibly calm him down.
The next thing you know, those popular girls in your class have heinous rumors spreading around about them. All it took was some proper lying and a person with the right connections to ruin their entire reputations in one day. You knew who it was but God, were you scared to confront him.
The modern word of Bimbo was meant to be derogatory towards women. The reclaiming of this meant that a woman could express her hyper femininity while also being intelligent, fighting against the stereotype of being feminine but being seen as dumb by society.
(This is not hate towards fanfiction writers or anything of the sort)
Hi this would be nice if someone could just give me a couple links to like some black fem!reader but ones that don’t include smut that’d be great thank you because as much as I love smut I also do love fluff as well and you know I tried doing it myself and there was just smut so…
Is there like a specific tag that I gotta search for? or is it just how it is?
Take your incest/rape kinks or fantasies off of this app and into the notes app. Can’t find a normal Leon Kennedy fan fic without seeing ts. Just cause u get off on it doesn’t mean it doesn’t trigger anyone else babe you’re disgusting, a creep, and weirdo go to twt or pornhub they would very much appreciate you there!!! Get therapy too you’re weird asf and a potential predator too.
omg i'm obsessed with your fics!! could you make a suggestive R4r sub! Leon? He's waiting for his girlfriend to come back to bed so he can finally sleep, but when she lies down, Leon feels needy for affection and touch :(( But he doesn't dare say it out loud, he's supposed to be the tough one in the relationship, so he just sticks to her body and lets his hands wander all over her. Now he looks like a complete pervert just sticking to her chest while Reader has to hold back from saying some mocking comment about his need (。>︿<)
Too Touch Starved ! ☾⋆⁺₊✧
leon kennedy x fem! reader
๋࣭ ⭑⚝word count: 1.5k
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ NSFW (not v explicit, very suggestive), alluding to more at the end, 2nd person, subby leon YAY, very fluffy, leon is a bit of a perv :3
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ summary: leon's desperate for physical attention, he gets touchy with his girlfriend as they cuddle, falsely assuming she's sleeping.
๋࣭ ⭑⚝ a/n: ty for the requestt :33 this was actually rlly cute i liked writing this >_<
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Leon was curled up in bed, his body facing the side of the bed you'd normally sleep on, patiently waiting for you to finally finish getting ready for bed and just lay down next to him.
Leon normally didn’t like night time, he was an extreme insomniac. Most nights he spent staring up at the ceiling, lost in a sea of thoughts, unable to just close his eyes and finally get some rest.
But with you around? At least you gave him company. He could spend the whole night happily thinking about you, admiring how pretty you looked while resting rather than spending hours reminiscing on Raccoon City, or Spain, or any other bullshit from his past. Your body beside him kept him warm all night, and hugging you was a thousand times better than hugging his pillow.
Leon whined your name from the room to call you over, he felt pathetic but he couldn’t help it; he wanted you.
“You’re so clingy.” you mumbled as you rushed out the bathroom, turning off the light as you left and entered the bedroom.
“No ‘m not.” Leon grunted from the bed, his face hard to make out in the darkness of the room.
You crawled on top of the bed and peeled back the fluffy comforters and crawled under, all the heat from Leon’s body trapped beneath the blanket.
“You are clingy, but it’s okay, I love that about you.” you said quietly as you settled yourself in bed.
Leon didn’t reply fully, only letting out an incoherent mumble like a fussy toddler. It was too dark to see what expression Leon had on his face, but you’d guess he was looking all grumpy like usual. He hated when you called him clingy or anything like that. It made him feel emasculated. He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t help it.
You leaned over and gave Leon a quick peck on the cheek. “Goodnight. Love you. Mwah.” You said to him with a smile before laying down beside him, facing away and toward the wall so you would be the little spoon.
Leon wrapped his muscular arms around you, pulling you close to his body, pressing your back against his chest. He threw one of his legs over yours to keep your smaller frame completely trapped beneath him. He rested his head against the back of yours, his nose in your hair. He could smell your shampoo and conditioner still. You smelt so damn good.
Your body was warm, like some sort of personal heater, and all those expensive shower products Leon spoils you with only made this better. You smelt heavenly.
You reminded Leon of one of those stuffed animals you’d buy at the store, the ones that could be put in the microwave and used as a little heating pad, infused with scents for aromatherapy. Leon never owned one, obviously - those were for little kids and girls on their periods. But he still thought about them when he cuddled you. You were just as cute and warm and smelt twice as good.
Leon would be the last person to say it aloud, but he was really touched and starved. He was always away at work, so these nights with you in his arms were few and far between. But if he were to be even more honest, he wanted to be the little spoon.
He wanted to feel your arms wrapped around his torso. To feel your breath against the back of his head. He just wanted you to touch him as much as humanly possible. He hated when you called him clingy, but goddammit was it true. He needed your affection, he needed to be touched.
Leon could feel your breathing slow against him as he hugged you, you were probably sleeping he decided. He was never one to be super touchy and affectionate, but he needed it right now, and you couldn’t make fun of him if you were sleeping..!
Leon moved his arms up a little, moving slowly to not disturb you, his hands moving to your chest. He’d kill to nap with you and just bury his face between your tits, use your chest as a pillow as you played with his hair. But he’d be damned if he found himself so pathetic that he’d ask for something like that. He was a man, a very tough one, he worked for the government, he wasn’t some little sub desperate for his girlfriend’s attention.
Leon gently grabbed your chest, feeling how plump your breasts felt. Your plush body was so damn cute! He loved feeling you, touching you all over like this. He was staying gentle the whole time, horrified of being caught being so clingy.
Worse than that, he didn’t want to be seen as a pervert. He just liked your chest, and liked touching you. Was it a little weird he was doing it while you were sleeping? Yeah, probably. But he didn’t mean it in that way. He just needed touch…
He felt on your chest in the silent room, just enjoying the moment quietly. Poor boy was absolutely unaware that you were wide awake. Yeah, you’d been tired, but not that tired. You didn’t fall asleep so suddenly. It’d be impressive if you could.
But you didn’t say anything. You were waiting for just the right moment to tell him. He was only playing with your chest, nothing too outlandish, but you knew he’d be embarrassed if you called him out. You knew he thought you’d fallen asleep, he was never this touchy with you normally.
Leon let out little grunts as he kept feelings on your curves. He was getting a bit aroused from this, a bit more aroused than he’d like to admit. He kept letting out quiet, breathy grunts as he felt himself get semi-hard in his pants.
Leon’s hands moved back down, and for a moment you thought he was done, but then you felt Leon playing with the bottom of your top, slowly moving up to touch your bare nipples, and you knew it was time to call him out.
“Leon?”
Leon pulled back from a second, visibly a bit startled, you didn’t even try to be gentle when you said his name. “Shit, sorry..!” He stuttered out, clearly flustered, he was embarrassed that you’d caught him off guard like that.
You turned your head to look at Leon, batting your eyes at him as he sat up in bed, back against the frame, feigning an innocent expression. You couldn’t see in the dark before, but now you could thanks to Leon’s bright red glowing face. He looked like a damn glowstick.
“So, uhm… how long were you awake?” Leon asked, brushing his fingers through his hair.
“The whole time.” you answered, stifling back a mocking laugh.
“The whole time?” Leon repeated, tone slightly whiny before he cleared his throat and corrected himself.
You sat up in bed beside him, giving him a look. You’d been holding back teasing comments for the past ten minutes now.
“You’re such a perv.” You said, mostly teasing, but Leon couldn’t tell because of your tone.
“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t know what came over me. I should have asked you. I’m really, really sorry, my love-”
“I’m just teasing, I’m not that upset.” you said as you gently patted his shoulder. He was looking at you like a dog that's been caught eating your food. He was such a pitiable creature.
"Besides, I already knew you were clingy and needy. Even if you won't admit it. I just didn't know you were that needy." You teased. Leon looked down at his lap in shame, face still red.
Leon’s heart rate had skyrocketed at this point, he’d been caught red-handed, he’d been exposed as a complete pervert. The only thing that could’ve been worse is if you’d caught him with his dick in his hand.
Leon just nodded in response. Your eyes traveled down and noticed the small bulge in Leon’s pants. Clearly being pervy got him excited.
Leon noticed you staring and quickly pulled the comforter over his lap to hide his little boner. Being this embarrassed only made him more hard. This was truly hell for him.
“I…” Leon stuttered out before he pouted out his lip. His brain was fuzzy from the blood going down to his dick, so he couldn’t find a good excuse that he could mindlessly spew out at you.
You just stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if he was going to say something or not. But once he made it clear he wasn’t going to, you decided to speak up.
“I can help you with that.” You mumbled.
“You- wha?” Leon replied, cocking his head to the side like an innocent puppy. He watched you lift up the blanket and crawl under, fading into the dark beneath the comforter.
It took him a moment to realize what you were doing, his mind only processing once he felt your hand on the waistband of his pajama pants. He sucked in a gasp and moved his hand to the back of your head. Leon had been desperate for some physical affection all night, and well, now he was getting what he wished for. (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
He had committed no crime. He was not suspected of any crime. Police saw him, a Black kid wearing a ski mask, and decided to murder him for it WITH THE HELP of paramedics. He was a sweet kid who literally played his violin for kittens in a shelter in his free time and he died apologizing to his murderers for not being able to breathe.
During the 2020 George Floyd protests, the anger, the protesting, and the rioting was at least as much about him as it was about George Floyd in the Denver/Aurora area. Local violinists showed up to a protest to perform in memory of him and they were tear gassed for it.
One of the cops was recently acquitted and got to keep his job and walk away with $200,000 in back pay.
People who wear ski masks aren't the issue. Cops are. They will ALWAYS be the bigger threat.